Of car rides
by Eldunari107
Summary: Used for a car ride on a ds


**The Legend of Zelda: Child of the Sun**

By Rin

Chapter One: Of Origins

What? Another story, my pale child? So greedy!

Fine. I'll tell you of the Death of the Men.

And you're going to sleep when I am done! None of your pouting! The story begins.

Once we Gerudo ruled Lake Hylia, back when it was simply 'the gift of Din.' We were not always bandits and thieves, though the Hylians would deny this.

Five hundred years ago, we were once a proud race of hunter-farmers, and we would die for our land, for the priceless treasure of the lake. And die we did, when a madman of a Hylian king decided it was his holy duty to retake the lake, the lake that had never been his to begin with.

Our race simply does not produce males easily; it requires a large enough number of male Gerudo sires to birth enough sons. In those days, one of every ten Gerudos was male. The women of those days were not the warriors we are now, for peace was widespread then, and the men were all we needed to protect us.

The attack came with neither warning nor mercy. The men, used to peace, all fell beneath Hylian blade and arrowhead.

The Hylians set fire to our homes and crops, and we ran, saving as much of our lives as we could, taking harbor in the cliffs that had sheltered us from hail, storm, and fire.

At the end of the massacre, the murderers, their hands still red with the blood of our husbands, gave us the wasted land near the plains, and the desert beyond. The soldiers, their deed done, could not even leave us to our grief. They returned, again and again, to rape our women and steal our heirlooms.

Until at last, we took up our cooking knives and drove the elfin murderers who called themselves Hylians from our beds, led by a woman of grace, Nabooru, my namesake. We rebuilt in the canyon, river thundering ceaselessly below.

We carved our homes into the safety of the cliffs, and our arms grew strong. The sun shone bright and hard, and our skin became dark. The sand raged and our legs grew swift. The wind screamed, and our short, pointed ears rounded. We made walls of stone and mud, and our faces were weathered. Our crops failed again and again in the poor earth, and we learned to make the most of the smallest morsel.

The Hylian men returned for our favors in time, and we were ready for them. The earth drank deeply of the cold blood of the scum, and our hearts grew proud, warriors for the first time we women could remember in our history.

But it was too late for us to escape the sin of our rapists. Batu, who was but a child, grew heavy with a son, and it was he who became our next King…

This is the world you will live in, for better or worse. Make no mistake, for you are _mine_ now.

…Silly child. You were asleep for half the tale, weren't you? Ugh. What an impossibly long day…

Sleep well, my son. My Link.

She'd found him not two days ago.

The raid had gone well, at first. After constant raiding, the western villages of the Royal Province of Lake Hylia had fortified themselves, leading the Gerudo raiders to travel further and further east in the Province. They did not raid dry and arid Drought Country – for the people who dwelled there lived on the same knife-thin edge of starvation that the Gerudo did.

The band had collected their due, of coins, grain and oil. Things they needed to survive in their barren domain. On her way out of a terrified farmer's land, Nabooru took a red apple from his trees. It was tart and juicy, just as the others had said. As she savored the fruit, shouts rang out across the lakeshore, accompanied by the clatter of armored soldiers.

Too late she heard the call to retreat, to return to the dangerous, impossible, precarious path in the cliffs. Once on the path, the others were safe from the ungainly soldiers, and the archers.

Running for the plains would leave her vulnerable to Hylian arrows. Vast expanses of treacherous swampland lay beyond Lake Hylia, too far to run to, too dangerous to hide in. Nabooru ran for the forest to the east, a vast and unconquered mass of trees, skirting the strip of land that rapidly narrowed between the lake and the hill which provided her cover from the Hylians.

It was the only path open to her, her sisters were already being hunted like desert hares. How could she bring Hyrule's attention to the same path that had sustained their lakeshore raids for a decade at least?

Without breaking stride, Nabooru gathered herself and leapt into the Fisher's Creek. She paddled across, abandoning her spoils but for the coins and one small sack of grain, her strong limbs moving easily across the current. She pulled herself out of the water, and took up the long, distance-eating gait her teachers had trained into her until it was second-nature to run that way. There – the edge of the forest. Nabooru gathered speed and ducked into the dark cover of the Lost Woods, avoiding low-hanging branches.

No point in covering her tracks in the soft, moist woodland ground, she was used to parched earth, hard rock and soft, dry sand. Instead, she set a hard pace and covered her face with her veil; letting distance and the airborne poisonous spores make her sanctuary.

Somewhere in the dark small masked figures laughed at her, chanting "Lost, Lost! New Stalchildren for the Woods!"

She paid them no mind. Gerudo could navigate the vast desert with only their ken to help them find safe paths, only their instinct to find their way.

No Gerudo would ever be truly lost, even in these Din-forsaken woods. It was another gift the Goddess Din had given to her daughters. Strange shuffling and clacking noises echoed after her as she ran.

Finally, she sat on a fallen log and panted wearily, setting her scimitar across her knees as a precaution.

She took a careful drink out of her canteen, licking her lips for the last precious drops. Sitting back, Nabooru recalled a legend she'd heard as a girl, of the ageless children that lived deep within the Lost Woods.

Children that never grew… never aged…

She herself could never have daughters, as she'd found years before that she was barren.

It was an ache in her heart, a void that desperately needed to be filled. She'd done her best to fill it with other things, things like her duties, training and her small rock garden in her home's courtyard.

And it was working, for the most part. Already she was becoming known for her skills as a top thief, and one of the best bloodless raiders.

If not for the Hylian soldiers, not a drop of blood would have been spilt that night, only the scratch of brush and unforgiving cliff rock against dark Gerudo skin.

Speaking of the soldiers, they should have finished their hunt by now… And left at sunrise, but… it was best to wait till the sunset, to be safe.

Nabooru spent a restless night high in a tree, falling into a light doze, always waking at the slightest noise. Needless to say, she didn't sleep very much.

She kept her veil tight over her face, for it was spelled to filter pure air from anything, be it sand, smoke, even poison gas. She ate a scarce meal of nuts and tubers at sunrise, and readied herself for the journey home.

Off to the side a scrub creature chattered angrily, silenced by the howls of Wolfos, and the scream of a woman. Nabooru leapt to her feet, tucking her sheathed scimitar into her sash and sprinting off once more.

She found the clearing the howls had come from, the Wolfos already gone. It was empty. No. There was a dark spot of color against the far tree. She approached carefully, hoping this was the sister, be it Gerudo or Hylian, and not some new monster.

"Who are you, are you wounded?" She spoke aloud, putting a hand to the bundle of dark cloth. The woman – the Hylian woman – struggled upright, pale eyes wide and frightened.

"Stay away, Gerudo! Don't kill me!" She rasped in terror, spittle orange with the forest's toxic spores.

"Sister, be calm." Nabooru said softly, eyes taking in the feverish glaze of the woman's eyes.

The woman was poisoned, and fatally, judging by the way her pupils darted in and out of dilation.

"You're going to kill me, you killed my husband and now you're going to kill me!" the woman sobbed, curling around her middle, protectively. "Don't kill my baby, please don't kill my baby!"

The bundle she held moved a little, but remained quiet.

"My sisters and I harm no woman, even Hylian ones, unless they give us reason to turn a blade against them." The Gerudo soothed, using the well-recited words of a Gerudo raider. "There were no Hylians killed tonight, only soldiers." _And maybe some of my Gerudo sisters,_Nabooru thought.

"I will take care of the child." She said, as the thought occurred to her. "I will not murder you, either. The forest has already done that. It's just a matter of time, now." She drew a well-used dagger, letting the woman see it. "I heard from my sisters that dying from the Woods' poison is a slow, cruel death. I can ease it for you, if you like."

"Liar," the woman gasped, wheezing, "You-" but she did not finish, cut off by a child's cry.

"HEY! BIG PERSON!" A troupe of green-clad children melted out of the forest to surround the two women, hollering.

"Leave that other big person alone!" A red-headed boy yelled imperiously, brandishing a slingshot, "Or I, the Great Mido, am gonna hurt you!"

"Yeah!" A small pigtailed girl squeaked, timidly carrying a sturdy stick before her, "We'll get you."

"So, so, just go away!" Another boy, buck-toothed, agreed, waving two sticks of his own.

"Please, just leave the big person and the little one alone," The last remark came from a wise-eyed girl with green hair. She held a long dagger like a sword, stepping before the other children.

"She is protected by the Great Deku Tree, and the small Kokiri is one of us!" The other children clamored in agreement, some boys hefting rocks threateningly.

Nabooru snorted. "I didn't do anything to her. Go away." The redhead yelled and shot a stone at her. The Gerudo caught it and hurled it back, striking the boy hard across the temple.

"Go play your games elsewhere, forest children!" She snarled, brandishing her dagger in threat.

The Kokiri children watched her with wide eyes, then retreated into the shadows of the forest. Only the green haired girl remained, watching from a high branch with her wise, jade eyes.

Confident that the girl would not stab her in the back, she turned back to the dying woman.

She leaned closer to the woman, who moaned weakly, flinching. "What is your name?"

"Myina…" The woman, really no more than a girl, choked.

"And why did you run to these woods instead of remaining home?" Nabooru demanded.

"My husband…" Myina smiled briefly, falling lax into a grimace, "We came here… recently. He said Gerudo burn…" she hacked on her own spittle for a long moment, and gasped the rest out "…houses to the ground. Kill everyone. I had to save my baby."

She looked upon the bundle with a mother's love, and turned pleading eyes upon the Gerudo raider. "Please… don't kill my son."

"I already said I wouldn't, didn't I?" Nabooru snapped impatiently, taking the child from his mother's arms and setting him aside, tired of the girl's melodramatics, dying or not.

"Yes…" Myina mumbled, mouth orange with foam, tremors running through her body, limbs starting to twitch, heralding the beginning of the painful end.

"Would you like me to make your death quick?"

"Yes." Myina cried, and Nabooru held her limbs down as she convulsed, and slid a merciful blade between her ribs. "Oh my beloved," the girl rasped, voice a faint whistle, "My Link…Dakor…"

The red stain on her bosom grew, and her eyes stopped rolling. Nabooru watched quietly, and then closed the dead Myina's staring eyes.

She picked up the boy, unwrapping the cloth, and found he was no infant, almost ready to walk. Bright blue eyes stared at her, and the child gave her a toothless smile, unaware of his mother's death. Sandy gold hair and long, pointed ears marked him as a Hylian. Nabooru sighed and hefted his weight closer to her shoulder.

"You were a fool." She addressed the dead girl, unfazed by the macabre sight. "Had you but listened to your neighbors, you wouldn't have run to this death trap. You were young, but still, a fool."

She fished two brass coins out of her pouch, and bending carefully, put them on the girl's eyes. "Thank you for the boy."

As she turned to go, the Kokiri girl dropped from the canopy.

"Please, let me have the child." The girl begged, green eyes pleading. "The Great Deku Tree already made him safe from the forest. He is Kokiri now, don't you see?"

"I have no child." Nabooru said simply, so the little girl would understand, "I can never have a baby. I have a child now, and I'm not letting him go."

"There is something special about him," The girl insisted, stamping her foot. "He belongs to the forest; the Great Deku Tree said it was his fate!"

"Kids can't raise babies." Nabooru said with a meaningful look, "_Especially_ kids that never grow up. If it's his fate to come here, then he will. But not now."

The girl bit her lip, worrying it. A glowing ball of light flew out of her pocket, and whispered in her ear.

"Okay," the green-haired forest girls said hesitantly, "But take my ocarina." She took a green clay ocarina and held it far from her body, offering it to the Gerudo woman.

Nabooru took it, juggling the child and placing it in her pack, pulling a trinket from it as she did.

"Take this as my thanks." She tossed the necklace to the girl.

"Pretty…" The girl whispered reverently, fingering the green glass. "Thank you." She smiled a little, "The way back is that way." She pointed.

"I'll take care of the child," Nabooru thanked, and turning, she left.

She bound the boy to her bosom, and he began crying as soon as she began running. He sobbed the entire way back to open ground.

It was actually a relief that he was crying, as it let her know there wasn't anything wrong with him physically. Still, it got vexing after a while. Nabooru offered him a sip of water laced with the tiniest bit of a sedative. He looked at his new mother with distrustful eyes, and screwed up his face at her, before sucking the water up greedily.

"You'll come to like me, kiddo." Nabooru said with a rueful grin as he nodded off, "Just you wait."

She whispered the words to a concealment spell – she'd always excelled in magic studies, it just came naturally. When it was complete, she examined her new appearance.

Still the same height, with golden hair, blue eyes, and Hylian ears to match her new son. Her arms appeared far less muscular than before, and her skin had lost its harsh desert-sun tan. Then she noticed her clothing – far too Gerudo to pass as Hylian, what with the pantaloons and sari. She transformed the sturdy linen into a modest gown, of the style typical for a farmer's wife in this region.

With the coins she'd collected, she bought her way to the western side of the Province, riding comfortably on the back of a farmer's cart. When the baby woke up, she entertained him with fairy tales and stories of the Gerudo Fortress, his new home. Nabooru kept her voice quiet – the rumble of the cart drowned out her words – there was no way for the driver to overhear her.

With the Hylian guise, she traveled from town to town on the backs of wagons and carts, spending nights at cheap inns and one time, in a kindly miller's house. To prevent too much curiosity, she pretended to be stupid, and kept her false home history long and boring.

At last, after a week's travel, she was close enough to access the secret cliff paths that led to home.

She was pleased to find no trace of Hylian boots on the narrow path, and took extra care when she reached the most treacherous part, where gravel and sand made uncertain footing.

Nabooru was tired, hungry, and covered in dust by the time the path widened and opened to the pass that led to Hyrule's plains. At last. The bridge would be near, and it would be manned by a Gerudo. From the bridge, she could get a ride back to the Fortress. She smiled, and made her way to the river gorge, feeling the mist on her face, the thunder of the massive waterfall a familiar and welcome sound.

"Home," She breathed, feet moving of their own accord, and dropped the concealment charm.

"Hey, Nabooru!" The guard hollered from her post at the bridge as the raider approached, "Where were you? We thought you were dead!"

"I had to take the long way, Nooya!" Nabooru returned at her friend, grinning.

"It must've been a very long path, I think." Remarked Nooya, "Did you go around the Lake?"

"No, I spent that first night in the Lost Woods. And then hitchhiked my way back to the paths." Nabooru gave a sigh of relief as she undid the bindings that held her son in place. Nooya's eyes widened at the sight of the child in Nabooru's arms.

"You really are one of our best, Nabooru," She said in awe, "To steal a daughter from the forest…"

"A son. The child's a boy." Nooya's eyes grew even wider.

"A son!" She exclaimed gleefully, "Din knows we need more men! What's his name?"

Nabooru thought back to Myina's dying words: _My Link… Dakor…_

"Link." She said firmly, "His name is Link."

Chapter 2

Once there were two twin sisters. They grew strong in the ways of the desert magics, and became witches well-known for their strength and power.

Years passed, and like all women, they began to long for a child to nurse. One night they went into one of the Hylian towns and, together, seduced a man. At the end of the night they slit his throat, and returned to the desert Colossus that was their home.

Both sisters soon found themselves with child, and in nine months, the twins each gave birth to a son. As the sisters were hard to tell apart, so it was impossible to tell the two boys apart. Even their mothers could not tell which child was theirs, so alike were the boys.

Suddenly, the sons grew ill, and in the night, one son passed away. The two witches awoke to find only one babe still breathing.

Never knowing which was theirs, they both mourned the death of the one child, and raised the other child together.

So it was that our King, Ganondorf Dragmire, was born and raised by two mothers, the two witches.

"No. Absolutely not." Was the first thing out of Ganondorf's mouth as he saw the Hylian child in Nabooru's arms.

"Please, my Lord." Nabooru said, determined, "With all respect, we need more men."

"Hylian men? I don't trust them." Link wiggled a little in her arms, and she shifted him higher. There had been no time to leave him at home with her sister, so Nabooru had simply taken him with her. Since he had woken from his drugged sleep that morning, he had been unnaturally quiet, a silence that had lasted all day.

"Then why not a Hylian man raised as one of us, sir?"

"I know what you want, Nabooru." The young Gerudo King rubbed tiredly at his weathered face, "But I cannot see any good coming of it in the future. This boy will do our people no good." Nabooru frowned, and forged on doggedly.

"My Lord, I will raise him as my own, he will be loyal to our people, I swear it." The King shot her a dryly amused glance.

"Determined as always, aren't you?" He mused, watching her. "I'll offer you a deal." Nabooru's pleading expression melted into wariness. The way he remained seated and made her stand left her uneasy.

"And what is this deal?" She queried, "Sire." She tacked the honorific on at the end, careful. How could the man be so intimidating, all whilst seated at a desk which bore a veritable cornucopia of papers?

"Be my consort." Ganondorf said simply, "Be my Queen, and you can keep the boy."

"Why?" She asked incredulously, not believing what she had heard. Link drooled on her shoulder, oblivious to how important the moment was to his future, to history.

"Are you really that blind? It should be obvious." The King sighed, "You've made a name for yourself. The people like and trust you. They will follow you into battle, and even into uncertain peace. And most of all, the Gerudo spirit is with you, more than any other woman."

He grimaced, then added rather frankly, "I will admit; it certainly doesn't help that around every corner, Tabiya is ready to jump my bones and maul me." Nabooru frowned, recalling seeing Tabiya, a proud and arrogant beauty, chase after the King for many a year like a cat after a mouse.

"I don't know…"

"I am not my mothers, and I will not become them." Ganondorf's eyes were intent upon her in the late afternoon sun, voice hard with sincerity. Nabooru looked at him, thoughtful.

"If I may keep my son," She said slowly, "Then I give my consent."

The tense lines in Ganondorf's face slackened a little, and just like that, the foreboding tension hanging in the air disappeared.

"Thank you, Nabooru." He sighed, relaxing into the Spartan-like chair. "This will be the first good news in a long while." He rubbed wearily at his eyes, mumbling. "Every year the Hylian King sends more soldiers when we must steal from our own land, and now they're boycotting our glass trade."

He came back to attention at the boy's soft coo, a chubby hand waved in the air.

"You can keep your son, Nabooru." Ganondorf said, carefully. "Raise him well. I will be watching his growth carefully. Din knows," He smiled thinly, "If he grows into a true Gerudo, we may not need to wait a century for a new King."

"Thank you, my Lord." Nabooru breathed in relief, and there was a strange kindness in the King's eyes as he replied,

"Call me by my name, Nabooru. And you're welcome."

"With your leave then." The woman bowed, and with her son, left the man's solitary workroom.

"Goodbye, then." The young King said to the empty doorway, "I just hope I've not made a mistake, and welcomed a future traitor."

He turned back to his work, and looking upon the mess of treaties and ledgers, cursed whatever cruel being had invented paperwork.

"I'm home, Sister!" Nabooru called, tapping the doorframe, and then sounding the visitor's bell. She easily balanced Link with one arm.

"I'm in the workroom! Just let me finish!" Aya called from the side room, the largest room in the sisters' shared quarters. Link was sat down on a cushion seat on the floor with a soft squeal, and he busied himself with exploring said cushion. Nabooru stretched, relieved of her burden, and sat down beside her new son on another cushion.

"So, how did the King take it?" Aya asked curiously, appearing in the doorframe, wiping soot from her hands. She closely resembled her younger sister, dark of skin and slim of frame. The _bindi_ jewel upon her forehead gleamed red in the sun.

"Well enough." Came the simply reply.

"What's that mean?" Aya reclined upon a cushion, eyebrow arched.

"The kid is going to stay, obviously."

"You're hiding something, Nabs, I know you. Tell me!" Aya pouted, "If you can't even tell your own sister…" Nabooru frowned at her.

"Lord Ganondorf offered me a deal, and I took it." Her forehead wrinkled as she spoke. "I'm to be his consort now." Aya beamed, as if she'd seen it coming.

"Good for you, Sister! You'll do well, I know you will. It truly is an honor." She examined her sister's face. "But you don't want it... Do you?" Aya queried softly, realization dawning.

"It's not that I don't feel honored," Nabooru said slowly, watching Link stuff one of the cushion's large tassels into his mouth, "But I do not believe I am the right person either. I'm just not a leader. Stealing is my life, not ordering my sisters around."

"Sister," Aya said carefully, "_That_ is precisely why the women want you to lead them."

Nabooru stared at her.

"…They do?"

Aya threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh my dearest Older Sister," she chuckled, "You've always been blind to our sisters' opinions of you!"

"That isn't very funny, Aya." Nabooru grumbled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Aya kept laughing, and was about to reply when the visitor's bell jingled, accompanied by a cheerful call of:

"We're home!" Aya's face lit up, and sprung up from the floor to embrace the grinning woman in the door.

"Dinah!" She snatched a quick kiss from the other woman, and bent to kiss the auburn-fluffed head of the babe in Dinah's arms.

"Welcome back, Dinah!" Nabooru greeted her sister-in-law, "I trust work was good?"

Dinah smiled, handing Aya her daughter, and headed for the water jug. Her sunny mood was apparent in her light step.

"Productive, as usual, Sister." She took a long draught, then wiped her mouth. "We have some new pigment in, from the canyon upriver. It's the loveliest blue you'd ever seen."

"And how did Reya behave?" Aya piped in from the cushion, nursing Reya.

"Oh, I had Kooru watch her for me. She already has a kid, almost three." Dinah grinned mischieviously, sitting down next to her lover, smelling strongly of smoke and molten glass. "Kooru said Reya screamed half the time, and then her daughter joined in!"

"So the regular banshee behavior?" Aya asked, smile wide on her face.

"Maybe we should start a choir." Nabooru remarked, smirking. Dinah chuckled.

"Indeed. And this must be the rugrat everyone's heard about!" Dinah tousled Link's blonde hair affectionately. He stared at her with big eyes, then crawled over to Nabooru, the only person he knew was safe.

Nabooru sighed apologetically, and lifted the baby onto her lap. The boy wiggled a little before settling. Aya watched her sister with a knowing expression.

"Don't worry about it, Nabooru. It will take a time before he trusts us all."

"I know."

"I heard the _other_ big news, by the way." Dinah spoke, breaking the building tension in the air. "Tabiya is going to have a fit."

"That spoiled housecat can go hang, what good she is." Aya sneered. "She may have the favor of the Witches, but the desert will bloom before she'll be a proper Queen."

"Yes," Dinah said, "I agree. Most of the women know by now. Koume and Kotake have been riding hard on the King to choose his consort, for a long time. And you know the influence they have on him." She sighed, and the women's eyes hardened at the thought of the Witches. "I'll have you know, Nabooru, that everyone thinks the King made the right choice. You don't need to fret. You have our support." Her dark eyes focused fervently on her sister-in-law.

The evening clarion call sounded, echoing through the valley.

"Time for dinner," Aya sighed, pulling Reya from her breast and fastening her shirt.

"Will you join us tonight, Sister?"

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. It's been a long day." Already the exhaustion was encroaching, making her temples ache.

"Don't try to put it off, Nabooru." Aya frowned.

"I'm not," Nabooru denied, shaking her head. "Well… maybe a little. But I really am tired!" She added quickly, at their knowing looks. "Aya, if I _am_ to be Queen, I'd like to face everyone with some reserves left. It was a very hard raid."

"Okay." Aya said, backing down. Relief flooded Nabooru's body, the tension in her aching temples easing at the thought of not facing _everyone_ as Queen so soon. Everything was moving so fast, for Din's sake!

"I'll watch the babes, leave Reya with me." She offered in gratitude, and Aya's eyes brightened, though she tried to suppress it. The baby was handed to her Aunt.

"Thank you," She beamed, "We'll miss you at the meal, but I can't say we don't need a break from her."

"Go on," Nabooru made a shooing motion, "Enjoy yourselves, you two."

Dinah mouthed _thank you_ at her, before hooking her arm around her lover, and tugged her to the door. A quick shuffle as they slipped their sandals on, and they were gone to the evening meal in the courtyard.

Sleepiness crashed down as soon as they left, and she yawned widely. She settled Reya into her cradle. Link blinked sleepily at her from the cushion, little trust in his eyes, but he remained silent, as he had all day.

The little Hylian boy pushed a fist against his face , revealing toothless gums in a long yawn. Nabooru laughed, pulling out the sleeping mats.

"I know exactly how you feel."

Chapter Three: Of Rabiyu

Nabooru woke to a child's happy laugh and the sound of gravel shifting in the courtyard. She blinked a little, threw back the blanket and stretched her limbs, pleased to find that the wearied tension of last night had disappeared. Zombie-like, she changed into her day clothes, and rolled up the mat she'd slept on. Reya and Link were gone, Reya's cradle pushed out of the way. She was certain that Dinah or Aya had taken Reya to the nursery, but what about Link?

She ran a damp cloth over her face and neck to freshen up, and stepped outside to the blinding desert sun, ready to find her son. Heading down the apartment stairs, she entered the courtyard that doubled as free space for the tenants that lived in the eight levels of the whitewashed adobe apartment complex. No one had objected to Nabooru's proposal of a rock garden in the courtyard – if anything, they were quite pleased with the garden's simplistic beauty.

"Good morning, Nabooru." She was greeted by a girl, simply dressed, red hair like a spray of molten copper. The girl wore a somber expression unusual for her twelve years of age. Rake in hand; she deftly changed the straight rows of fine gravel to a swirling wave pattern. Link was sucking on his thumb at the edge of the gravel pit, watching the girl with fascinated eyes. Relief washed over Nabooru.

"Thank you for watching him, Rabiyu." Rabiyu smiled slightly, ducking her head.

Rabiyu's lineage was a bit of a controversy; her mother, Naotu, was a traitor and weakling who ran away from her Gerudo life to the arms of a Hylian man. Leaving behind her only daughter. However, she was Ganondorf's firstborn daughter, and so, his heir. A princess, in her own right. Rather than leave Rabiyu to the doting care of her maternal grandmother, the King had raised her on his own.

"It wasn't a problem. He was crawling around on the second floor, so I brought him down here, and I always enjoy spending time in your garden." She set the rake aside.

"I thought you had a garden in your father's home."

"Father is very bad with plants." The girl admitted, making Nabooru chuckle.

"Then you are welcome any time."

"Thank you." Rabiyu tentatively offered a finely patterned jug to Nabooru. "I brought you some water for your cactuses." Nabooru took the beautiful, but heavy jug from the princess, touched by the thoughtful gift. Carefully, she set the jug down onto the courtyard flagstones.

"Thank you so much. With all the excitement lately, I had forgotten." The little smile on the girl's face grew.

"It's to congratulate you. I think Father chose the right woman." Rabiyu gulped a little "And I… I was wondering if you could teach me magic? I'm old enough to be learning but Father won't approve anyone. He forbade me to learn from my grandmo–I mean, his mothers. I could help with your duties as Queen or look after your son or do chores or-"

"Rabiyu." Nabooru cut the girl off. "You don't need to beg. I would be happy to help."

"Oh." Rabiyu blushed. "Thank you." A loud trumpet sounded, then repeated several times before tapering out of hearing with a squeal.

"Ah – the Luncheon Horn. Eat with me today, Rabiyu, if you'd like. I have much I want to talk with you about."

"Of course!" The girl nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Nabooru." Nabooru smiled and picked Link up.

"Now then. Let's get this rascal fed."

"How… How dare you!" Tabiya seethed, standing enraged in Ganondorf's private quarters. He had left to eat lunch with the community, and upon his return, found he was no longer alone in his home.

"Tabiya, why are you here?" He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. She smiled, humorless, henna-reddened lips pressed thin. Her long hair – dyed black to suit her olivine skin better – bristled catlike with agitation.

"I heard a little rumor last night. I didn't like what I heard."

"And what did you hear?"

"I heard you made a big offer to someone that you shouldn't have."

"Someone?"

"No games, Ganondorf, not this time."

"No games?" He snorted sardonically, "I think not. When I'm involved with anything, it's called politics."

"Then why did you choose her?!" She slammed a hand down on his desk, making a carefully blown glass quill holder fall to shattered pieces on the stone floor. "Choosing another woman over me – against both your mothers' approval!"

"You broke my vase."

"Nabooru is barren – she doesn't deserve to be Queen."

"My daughter made that!" He growled, "You're allowed – and I am allowing you - to come in here and yell at me, shake your finger in my face and tell me I am a fool. What I will not allow is destruction of my personal properties as you decry my judgment on delicate political decisions."

"I don't care!" Hysteria made her voice rise. "My mother ruled before you were born, and my grandmother, and great-grandmother ruled before them. By my blood I am worthy to be queen!"

"They all passed the Queen's Ordeal."

"I can pass as well as they!" Power crackled white at her fingertips "Bring them on, Gerudo King, let the tests begin. I am no weakling like your beloved Naotu, I was apprenticed to the Two Witches of Twinrova, guardians of the Desert Colossus!"

"I am more than aware of the titles you flaunt, and remain unimpressed. Nabooru is just as capable as you are, yet she sees no need to inform all that she is one of my Agemates, and shared the same teacher. Barren or not, Nabooru has brought what no other Gerudo woman has– a son."

"A Hylian child." She scoffed.

"But a Gerudo at heart, if raised properly."

"You can cross that bridge when you reach it." Tabiyu snapped. Ganondorf raised his eyebrows.

"Didn't you realize," he said quietly, "that I spurn you because you curried favor with my mothers, and because I found fault not with you as a person, but as a leader? My mothers are renowned for their power, prowess in magic, and cruelty. They want every Hylian man dead, and then who would sire our daughters? The Zora? No. My mothers want a war that we don't have power, or resources for."

"So that… is why I can't be Queen?" She asked thickly. For the first time, he noticed the red, puffy skin around her eyes. She was crying. "I'm not good enough because I sought out the best of magical instructors? Made two daughters with you? Devoted myself to you and taken no scum between my legs for the sake of reproduction?"

Unflinching, he looked her in the eye.

"I chose Nabooru because she would sacrifice her live to save another – when you have left others to die under your leadership. Your ambition is proud of its heritage, but you've blinded yourself to everything except becoming Queen."

"But…"

"Go home Tabiya. Tell your daughters that their Father says hello." Dismissing her, he turned his attention to picking up the shards of his daughter's vase without bloodying himself.

She left quickly, without a sniffle. He heard her footsteps down the rich carpet of his hallway, and a new set approaching.

Rabiyu bounced in, tapping door and bell, and all but knocked him over in her enthusiastic hug.

"I'm home, Daddy!" Her attention fell to the floor, "Your vase is broken!"

"Yes, I did notice. Tabiya did it."

"I saw her in the hall. She looked upset. Were you mean to her?"

"Yes, but she started it." He stated, placing the last of the glass into the trash bin.

"She doesn't know when no means no. I'm glad you're better than that."

"What has you in such a cheery mood?" He motioned for her to follow him to the den, a room filled with rich Gerudo tapestries, thick rugs, and overstuffed pillows.

"I talked with Nabooru today and ate lunch with her."

"How are she and the boy doing settling back in?"

"Better than they might. Her sister - Aya - is married to the glassblower who helped me make your vase – the one that got busted - and they already have a baby too."

"Yes, her name is Reya. She's one of mine."

"So when you've married Nabooru she'll be my half-sister and my cousin."

"Correct."

"Do you think Nabooru will want to be my mother when you marry her?"

"I don't know."

"You think she'll pass the Queen's Ordeal?"

"Of course I do. I wouldn't choose her if she couldn't already."

"Do you think my mother could pass?" The unexpected question was like a dagger of ice. It burnt and froze at the King's chest.

"…I don't know." Was all he could manage through the knot in his throat.

"She never passed her Woman's Ordeal, so I don't think she could."

"Have you ever wanted her to come and take you away with her?"

"Yes, but I know you're a good father. She should have taken you too, and then Tabiya could be Queen." Ganondorf failed to smother his snort of laughter.

"I think Nabooru will make a fine Queen, and even if you don't get along perfectly, she's a good person. And you'll have to help raise Link to be a prince."

"I look forward to it." Rabiyu said, eyes alit with eagerness. "A little… brother! What a novel thought!"

"All in good time, as it should be." Ganondorf chuckled.

Chapter Four: Of Envoys

_Sun, wind, and the endless ocean of sand._

"_Are you ready to begin?"_

"_I am."_

"_This ordeal is different from the Women's Ordeal. That was all about testing your ability as an individual, and a trial of courage and will. The Queen's Ordeal will be much like the King's Ordeal was for me. Here you will be tried as a leader, one ruling many. And make no mistake; here you will face death."_

"_No pressure intended, yeah?"_

"_Indeed. Good luck, Nabooru. You won't need it."_

"_Thank you for believing in me."_

"_Your own actions led you here. Climb the Sand Mother, and press a bloodied hand to her heart. Your Ordeal will begin there."_

"_Thank you."_

"_I'll see you soon."_

(Flash forward six years)

The women's chatter filled the steamy air of the bathing pool area. It was early, the sun hiding just below the horizon; turning the sky a pale violet. Floating above the noise was the distinct sound of the Bathing Falls. The water filling the pool area was taken from the massive waterfall in the canyon, piped to the Fortress, where it was filtered for dirt and debris, and boiled to make it safe to drink. From there, it was cooled for drinking and general use in the Fortress. But once a week, a portion of the piping hot water was sent to the Bathing Falls, where it ran over an artificial waterfall and into the bathing pools. Usually the hot water was scented like spice and sun, but today, the baths were perfumed with expensive oils of sandalwood and rose – the costlier bath stuffs used in lieu of the grand celebration that would happen today.

With the onset of her moon cycle, Rabiyu had faced her Women's Ordeal, and passed with flying colors, if a little worse for the wear. That, combined with the Spring Equinox and this year being the twenty-fifth of Ganondorf's reign, meant there was more than enough cause for a big party. As a gesture of peace, the Hyrulian King had been invited to attend.

He and the Hylian entourage were due to arrive at noon, so a pre-dawn bath was a practical way to ensure everyone was clean and ready for a day of partying. Conversations were turned to what the women would wear, of the games and food to be present at the festivities, and of the male company the Hylian knights and soldiers would provide for the three day celebration.

Link tried very hard not to squirm as his mother finished chanting the spell that changed his natural golden hair to a rich russet hue, allowing him to blend in with the Gerudo girls for a whole month, before having to be recast. His eyes remained their uncanny shade of indigo.

"Okay Link, all done." Gleefully, he stood on the slick tile of the bath floors, tanned, soapy, and unashamedly naked, looking for an empty space in the water to jump into.

"Link! Over here!" His cousin yelled, hair an auburn halo floating around her. He jumped into the water and paddled over to her, leaving the suds in his wake. Link leant over Reya and took a long, purposeful sniff.

"Guess the baths really do some good after all. You don't smell like horses at all!" Reya squeaked and promptly turned pink. She splashed him. He grimaced and spat out a mouthful of water.

"There's nothing wrong with that!"

"Reya," the boy said gravely, wrinkling his nose, "Horses are stinky and they go to the bathroom while you ride them. You should spend less time with them."

"But I love them!" She crossed her arms defensively. "You're just jealous because you can't hit a target at all when you're on Amber."

"I'm getting there!" He protested, "It's not like you're that much better at archery, anyway."

"Now, now, you two," Dinah admonished, wading over to the pair, "Try to get along, and let everyone else enjoy their soak."

"Aw _Mom!_" the girl whined, "I didn't need your help!"

"Make sure to get out before you get wrinkled, too. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to scrub your mother's back."

"_Auntie Dinah!_" Link wailed, stuffing his fingers in his ears. Reya stuck her tongue out at her step-mother's retreating back.

"And they're going to make kissy faces at each other too. Blegh!" They then stuck their tongues out at each other, and grinned.

"Is something troubling you, Nabooru?"

Eyes closed, mouth pursed to blow a stream of air into the green ceramic instrument.

"Yes, thank you, Dinah. Link has an imaginary friend. I know most children have one at his age – I did too."

Fingers covering the holes that change the notes played.

"But he seems to persist in believing that this imaginary friend is real, even after I talked to him."

A voice tickling at the edges of his mind whenever he played.

"Says her name is 'Sariya', and that he can speak with her when he plays his ocarina."

A voice as alive as green leaves, as fresh as a cold stream, as playful as a breeze.

_Hello, Link. Can you hear me?_

_Yeah._

_Good!_A little girl's giggle. _What did you want to talk about?_

_Anything, Saria! Tell me more about the forest! I told you about the desert last time._

_Alright, Link. Have I told you about the Skull Kids yet?_

"You said his ocarina came from the forest?"

"Yes, a Kokiri girl gave it to me when I found Link."

"Well, perhaps it is a magical ocarina."

A voice that spoke to him, and always, a small hand guiding his music.

"Blasted sun." Sir Flasmus grunted, dabbing at the sweat pouring off his pudgy face. "Not even noon yet and I'm cooking like a pig. How the Amazons take it I'll never know."

"The Gerudos prefer light silks, Uncle. Our wool is too warm for a desert climate." The gangling youth riding beside the portly man said, as if reciting a line from a text.

"I didn't ask you, Ferrick."

"Sorry, Uncle." The young man closed his mouth, and looked away.

Further up the line of horses was the Hyrulian envoy to the Gerudos, sun shining off his armor. The King himself could be found a week's journey away, tending court back at Hyrule Castle. He would have joined the Gerudo King for the Gerudo heir's coming of age, had it not been the Hylian princess's seventh birthday. As the appointed aide of the Gerudo envoy, Ferrick couldn't help but sigh in disapproval of the King's decision to remain. Were the Gerudo raids not escalating in frequency? Their pleas for aid not growing in desperation? It was an ambassador's nightmare, for the King to renege on a promise to visit a neighboring kingdom.

The Gerudo had no husbands to care for them, but for their King. Shouldn't the Hylian men then be responsible for their welfare? Just the thought of the defenseless women the Gerudos had once been raised chivalrous notions within Ferrick.

At the back of the line were a herd of finely bred horses lead by several guardsmen. With the horses came a wagon loaded with precious gifts for the Gerudo princess, jewels and gold, wood carvings, ornate but practical water jars, Hylian fruits and delicacies time-sealed in their containers to remain fresh until the seal was removed. Ferrick had planned the gifts with the ambassadors, researched Gerudo tradition and their available resources to find the most meaningful offerings the envoys could offer. All this to send a clear message of respect and honor.

And even now he could see the lustful thoughts swimming in the mounted soldiers' eyes, anticipating the passionate encounters sure to happen amongst a community of man-hungry women, during a festival full of drink and revelry.

Ferrick just hoped the men behaved themselves, and that nothing untoward might occur. And perhaps, for something… anything, really, to happen that might help heal the tattered bond between the Hylian and Gerudo people.

Chapter Five: Of Courting

"Those stupid Hylians! They're taking _forever_!" Reya complained to an unresponsive Link, who was playing his ocarina as he squatted against a corner of the building nearest the Fortress gates. Unruly russet hair escaped the confining turban which was wrapped around his head to hide the tell-tale length of his pointed ears.

"Shh, Reya, I'm talking to Sariya." He grumbled, losing his fingering.

"Sariya, Sariya, Sariya. All you talk about is Sariya! I thought I was your best friend."

"You are, but Sariya isn't Gerudo like us. She lives in the Lost Woods!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"So what's it like -" Reya was interrupted by the watcher woman posted to announce the moment the Hylian caravan arrived.

"They're here!" She shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth to magnify the sound. The gatekeeper shouted back her acknowledgement of the cry, and triggered the clockwork mechanism that would swing open the gate.

With a creak, the massive gate opened, swinging open to allow the Hylians entry.

In they cantered, armor and sweat gleaming in the sun, shining off the dark flanks of their horses, the train of mounted soldiers followed by a caravan clanking heavy and full of what must surely be precious gifts. A herd of six horses followed closely behind the covered wagon, led by bridle and lead.

"Look at them, baking in their armor!" Link nudged Reya.

"Like a piece of fat on a griddle!" She agreed.

"Where's the Hylian King?" Link wondered, half-blinded by the bright armor.

"I don't see him anywhere." Reya said, face perplexed.

"But why would he not come when he said he would?" Link frowned.

"I don't know."

"I guess you just can't trust those Hylians."

"You're a Hylian, Link." Reya said. Link rolled his eyes at her.

"Just barely."

"_What?_" The pretty young advisor shrunk away from Ganondorf's thunderous expression.

"That's what the letter said, my lord." She whimpered.

"And he thinks he can just forget us like this? I won't have it." He brought a clenched fist to his furrowed forehead, before slowly lowering it. "The Hylians are settled in the palace rooms?"

"They are your highness."

"And the festivities and dinner are prepared?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. We'll give them a welcome they won't quickly forget."

Evening came, and the soldiers at last had stripped off their armor for colorful, more physique-flattering party clothing.

The gifts themselves would be delivered on the fifth day. Until then, the men were free to enjoy themselves. Rooms were provided in the palace, but most of the men had no intention of using those empty rooms.

The night on the streets of the Fortress was thick with exotic Gerudo women in silks and veils, the very air thick with perfume, spice and the smell of cooking food. Here and there woman musicians strummed guitars, played flutes, and danced with tambourines for the Hylian men's money.

They didn't often get men in their own city, so the Gerudo were taking advantage of the opportunity to have intimate relations far more safely than before. The women who were married hunted in packs of two, selecting a man and taking him to their collective bed. It was a tried and true method for married couples to conceive safely. Sometimes women seducing men in Hyrule alone simply… disappeared, and were never seen again. Ganondorf's ex-lover Naotu notwithstanding, most of Hyrule was not safe for a lone Gerudo, and what Hylian man would marry a Gerudo woman, anyway? A Gerudo wife would never be truly safe, let alone accepted. Far better to take a wife of one's own and have a life companion to have and hold. Men were for children, not for love.

Women slipped into the Hylian's path as the men enjoyed the street party, turning their heads with soft-spoken words, eyes smoky with kohl, flirting behind elegant paper fans. They were bolder, more poised than the women of the King's court.

It made Ferrick uncomfortable, and he flushed bright red as one woman, Voorya, whom he was questioning about some Gerudo customs, touched his arm as he spoke to her, and he began to stutter.

She tsked.

"Oh honey, you're shy, aren't you. My sisters all know the men are here to enjoy themselves amongst us. But you are not, no, not for that reason. I can see that. Why are you here, then?" She asked softly.

"I th-thought it would be a… a good opportunity to see a n-new culture." He stammered, and she smiled gently at him. "I was studying the Gerudo people, and I helped the Lord Ambassador choose the gifts for the Gerudo Princess."

"Did you?" She purred, "I didn't know we had Hylian scholars learning about us. How very… interesting. In that case, I know a girl you might like to talk to. Come." She grasped his arm firmly with a manicured hand and dragged him through the vividly colored crowd, then led him through empty side streets to a courtyard lit by moonslight. In the center of the tiled square was an oval pit of pure white gravel.

A woman stood on the gravel, a rake in hand. She raised her head when she heard their footsteps approach.

"Voorya? Who is that with you?" She inquired, tilting her head.

"I've found a man for you, Rabiyu."

"Voorya. I could've found a man for myself, really." Voorya shrugged.

"He's shy, you're shy. I thought, why not? He's a scholar, too, not some brute off the street."

"This isn't necess-" Ferrick began to protest, but Voorya shoved him into the courtyard.

"Go." She ordered, pointing at the young woman. "Woo her. Enjoy yourself. Or at least try."

"A- okay." He gave in, and Voorya smiled at him.

"Good. Now, I need to find a man of my own. Goodnight." Voorya strode away down the side-street, leaving the two young adults alone.

The young woman laughed quietly, then inclined her head at Ferrick.

"Well, I suppose I have a companion for tonight. Who are you?"

"Um. Ferrick. Ferrick Rauros."

"Ferrick. That's a good name. A strong name." She says softly, and he shakes his head, untidy brown hair fluffing in the breeze.

"The Hylian nobility don't think so. My uncle says it's weak. My father wanted to name me Finnes, but my mother got her way before he returned from his travels."

"That's where I must disagree. Ferrick is much stronger than Finnes."

"Who _are_ you?"

"I'm Rabiyu."

"D-do you have a surname?" He wondered, and she smiled, stepping out of shadow and into the moonlight.

Rabiyu was pretty, in a fierce sort of way. Her cheekbones were high, her nose straight but hooked, her strong chin stubborn. Where the other Gerudo women put their hair up in elaborate styles with silver and gold wire, Rabiyu's auburn hair was simply tied back into braids. Rather than wire of precious metal, a modest copper wire circlet held her hair back. Her bosom was still developing, but she looked… sleek. Her clothes were of finest silk, a flowing blouse and loose pantaloons – not heard of on a woman, if she wasn't Gerudo. Throughout her clothing was featured the symbolic pattern of the Gerudo – blue and red geometric lines embroidered on her cuffs, her sash, and waist. Rabiyu was young, he realized, no more than his own seventeen years, maybe a year younger. The traditional _bindi_ on her brow was milky, round, and faintly blue in the moonlight. Her eyes were amber like the Gerudo King's, and they were gentle as she looked at him.

"A lesson for you then. The Gerudo do not have last names. We have only our names, and the name of our mother. I suppose you might call me Rabiyu Naotu's-daughter."

"Well then, Rabiyu Naotu's-daughter, why are you away from the party? Why choose an empty courtyard over the festivities?" She sighed, and he realized that at some point he'd relaxed and stopped stuttering.

"I've talked to many of the men, but none I have met yet have been intelligent enough for me."

"You mean they've all wanted to take you straight to their beds." He said boldly, feeling his ears burn.

"Yes. Exactly." She said wryly, and Ferrick found himself laughing.

"Well don't worry. You're safe with me." He said self-depreciatingly. "I wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she leapt at me naked." Rabiyu threw her head back and cackled.

"That's good. I wouldn't either." Behind his smile, Ferrick's mind was working fast. Who'd ever heard of a virgin Gerudo? He wasn't about to say that thought aloud, though. "Though it has happened to my father." Wait a moment, what? Father? Most Gerudo women were sired by Hylian men, and were raised solely by their mothers and female relatives. For Rabiyu to know her father…

"You're the Princess, aren't you." Her bright smile dimmed a little.

"Yes. I am." Rabiyu said quietly.

"The party is for you. Because you turned sixteen." She shook her head, sending coppery braids flying.

"No. It's because I passed my Ordeal into adulthood." She corrected. "Most girls, when they reached adulthood, would disguise themselves and seduce Hylian men into their beds. But I'm the Princess, and heir. So it wouldn't be safe – well, I'm sure I be _fine_, really, but my father disagrees. Nevertheless, it's a tradition to lose one's virginity after a successful Ordeal, so we invited many men here so I could take my pick. It's also the spring equinox, and my father has ruled for twenty-five years now, but the celebration for me, really."

"But you said you couldn't find any men who were intelligent enough for you." She broke eye contact and shifted smoothly, beginning to rake at the gravel. With short sweeps of the wooden rake, she changed the pattern from waves to a geometric design much like the traditional Gerudo pattern that appeared in her clothing. She was the Princess. Of course she was wearing that design. Stupid! Stupid, Ferrick you fool!

"Well, most of them weren't smart enough. But you know; there was this one man…"

"Yes?"

"He didn't look like much, very skinny, but he talked to me like I'm a real person. Didn't look at me and see… what do they call us? Oh yes, 'wanton foreign whores.'"

"But you're not!" Ferrick protested, and then stopped himself as realization followed hard on the heels of momentary outrage.

"And I'm very glad you don't." Oh.

"You're propositioning me." He said lamely. Rabiyu brushed a lock of hair from her face, looking up at him.

"Am I doing a good job?" She wondered.

"Er… We'll be staying for five days. I'd like to know you a little better before… _that_."

"That's fine." The Gerudo Princess agreed readily. "Voorya said you were a scholar?"

"I'd like to be, but my Uncle doesn't."

"Forget your uncle, then. I'm not interested in men who perceive intelligence as weakness. Would you like to see our library? We have scrolls dating back to Hyrule's occupation of Lake Hylia."

"Could I?"

"You could."

"Then lead the way, fair princess." Ferrick said, waving a hand ineloquently.

"Come with me, Ferrick Rauros." Rabiyu replied, and taking his hand, led him into the shadows.

**Chapter Six: Of Nights**

Ganondorf smiled the next morning when Rabiyu dragged a young man to the high table for breakfast. He was skinny and gangly, and very young, but she seemed completely enamored of the youthful sprout. Good. This was what he'd wanted to happen.

It was not exactly true that all Gerudo women tried to lose their virginity with a seduced Hylian man after coming of age. It was actually the King's duty to deflower any woman who'd come of age. It was a tedious duty – trying to be excruciatingly gentle and then despite his efforts, the experience was unpleasant for his partner anyway - but he fulfilled it to his best ability. Thankfully, this duty did not extend to any of his daughters, though, or any woman related to him by blood. If it hadn't been a law already, he would have made it a law himself. Incest was a disgusting thing, unnatural and vile. It was these women who were exceptions who had to seduce men after their Ordeal. For his daughter to find a man she liked, who would take her virginity gently and respectfully greatly pleased him. He'd always hoped she'd prefer woman over men, so he could see her happily married, but this was acceptable.

For Gerudos, breakfast was usually a solitary affair, just a Gerudo and the rising sun, but not for Hylians of the High Court, who were used to making a production of every meal. So for five mornings, there would be breakfast served in the open-air banquet area where dinner and the noonday meal were held.

The Hylian Ambassador harrumphed beside him, and the Gerudo King rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to his most important guest, who proceeded to expound on the financial matters of the Hyrule Kingdom. Talking about money when the sun was barely up! How cold-blooded could a race become? Ganondorf listened with attentive ears and a wandering mind. It was a skill he'd cultivated for twenty-one years, since he was just a young boy of fifteen.

Farther along the high table sat Nabooru, six-year old Link and his cousin Reya, as well as her parents… Aya and Dinah. Yes, that was them. Ganondorf prided himself on knowing all his subjects by name and face. They were a tightly knit-unit, but they had done their best to treat him warmly. Nevertheless, he never felt completely welcome, but then again, he was the King. He would never be one of the family. They had accepted Rabiyu with open arms, and really, that was all he could have ever asked for.

After a long, tedious day spent mostly by discussing the consequences of the Haunted Wasteland becoming a province of Hyrule with the Hylian Ambassador, and officiating another day of celebrations, Ganondorf thought he was more than justified in calling for Nabooru's company.

Now, hours later, he stretched out in bed – he had an actual mattress stuffed with straw and heather instead of a rolled out sleep mat. Nabooru lounged under the cotton sheets next to him, snuffling quietly in her sleep. The moonlight made her bronze skin look pale and washed out.

Just down the hall came a soft moan, and a very male voice crying out. Ah yes. Rabiyu and her paramour. When Rabiyu had been born, her mother Naotu had originally taken care of her in her own run-down room. As the mother of his first-born, she'd been allowed a room in the palace, after she'd turned down Ganondorf's hopeful offer of living with him in his own quarters. She'd waited until her child was weaned before fleeing. When the woman deserted, there had been no female relatives to look after her, save a maternal grandmother whose mind was clearly fading into dementia, and the Gerudo King had taken his child in without complaint.

It was hard to believe, as troubled as these times were for the Gerudo, but times back then had been even tighter. All of Hyrule had been going through a massive drought, and pickings had been slim indeed. No reason to pay extra for high quality Gerudo glass, silk, or ore when cheap alternatives were available from more trustworthy races. Most of the women had had to leave their jobs to forage for food and deepen the wells. Meals were shortened to one rationed meal a day, and duties curtailed to conserve energy and water. At one point they'd even trespassed into the Greater Hyrule Plains to hunt down Wolfos and Peahats for their meat, it had been so bad. The Gerudo race had balanced on a knife's edge of survival and starvation for two years because of that drought, and the famine that had followed. The skinny limbs of the girl children and the gaunt faces of the women still featured in his nightmares, dreams where his women starved, the river and wells dried up, and the bodies accumulated in the dust of the streets, the fields on fire. Very few Gerudo had died from hunger and thirst, but the possibilities still haunted him to this day.

There had been no one to spare to look after Rabiyu – he'd had to do it himself. Once she was old enough to sleep on her own, he'd made her a bedroom in a room just down the hall from his own suite, so he could hear her in the night if she had a nightmare or needed him for some other reason.

The proximity of their rooms had been useful then. Now, not so much.

Ganondorf sighed and settled back into bed, hoping not to hear any more incriminating noises. Of course, silence did not come, not even after ten minutes of waiting. Damn that teenage stamina. He rolled off the thin, low mattress and pushed himself to his feet. As soon as he was up Nabooru rolled into the warm spot he'd left with a grunt. He lit a candle with a snap of his fingers and a flicker of magic. The Queen stirred, and rubbed at her face, trying to block out the light.

"Mnnh- wha?" She murmured, blinking up at him sleepily and reaching out to tap his ankle. "Gan? Go ta _sleeeep_."

He liked her best like this, all loose-limbed and mindlessly affectionate. No formalities, no thoughts of what he could do to her son if she displeased him.

A muffled crash came from down the hall, followed by soft but unstifled laughter. Nabooru's brow furrowed.

"I'm going to soundproof the room," he explained, moving to the far wall - which was concealed from sight by tall shelves. Ganondorf pulled a few magical components from a sealed box, and crumbled them together. Finally, he drew out a single dried flower from a bottle, sprinkled the crumbling components on the blossom, and spoke a few words over it, letting his power sink into it. It glowed softly for a moment, and then settled into a faint glimmer in the heart of the flower.

He opened the ornately but tastefully carved door and stepped into the whitewashed, terra-cotta tiled hallway. He pinned the flower above the doorframe with a needle. The soundproofing complete, Ganondorf closed the door behind him and paused. Good, not even the sound of the endless wind outside the window came through. He'd have sound sleeping tonight, but he would take the spell down once Rabiyu's young man left. It would not do to become complacent and block out important noises like a fire siren, an explosion from the Mage's building (which often caught fire), or even an assassin. There'd been a several attempts on his life before – the last had been eight years ago – so he was probably due for one very soon now.

Back in bed, Nabooru grunted, rolling back onto her side with a soft "Rrrgh." She covered her eyes with her forearm.

"_Ganondorf._ Sleep. _Now._" She commanded, now in full control of her tongue, and the Gerudo King didn't bother to stop his grin.

"As my lady commands." He smirked quietly, pinching the candle out and sliding between the sheets. He rolled onto his side and pulled Nabooru to him by means of a thickly muscled arm around her waist. She made a sleepy sort of grumble but settled in against him.

Ganondorf closed his eyes and let sleep steal him away.

On the third day, Rabiyu and Ferrick did almost everything together. Even when the princess had to act in her ceremonial role as firstborn and heir, the young Hylian man stayed close by in the shadows.

She showed him the empty glassworks that brought in most of the Gerudos' income. Ferrick was led on a tour of the public armory, the Gauntlet, and taken up to the roof of the tallest apartment complex in the Fortress so he could see the distant kneeling figure of the Desert Colossus.

Rabiyu explained to Ferrick about different customs of the Gerudo, including the Ordeals. She even mentioned the rotation schedule the Gerudo were using during the five days of celebration.

"It's so everyone can have most of their time off to have fun." She said, swinging her legs over the edge of the roof, "Someone has to cook and serve the food, play the music, watch the children, clean the streets and take out the night soil. But we're not just going to force the lower classes to do it all, because they didn't pass their Ordeal or some other stupid reason. So everyone has one day to work, and they have the rest of the holiday off to enjoy. Except for Daddy of course. He has to be King the entire time." Ferrick considered this thoughtfully.

"Hm. A rotating schedule. That's… fairer than Hylian customs, actually." He admitted, making his Gerudo lover smile at him, and grab his hand to show him more of the Fortress.

During the tour of the stables – the Gerudo claimed to breed the finest horses in Hyrule – Ferrick was knocked into a pile of dirty straw and manure by two rambunctious girl-children.

"Reya! Linkyu!" Rabiyu scolded the girls. The taller of the two wore a turban wrapped around her head and looked unusually boyish. "You both know you're not supposed to be in here without Kooru or a stable hand watching you! Who was minding you today?" They looked at their feet.

"Halya," Linkyu, the turban-wearer mumbled. Rabiyu sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"All right, let's find her then," She said firmly, grabbing the girls by their shoulders and frog-marching them out of the stables. Ferrick quickly brushed at his soiled clothing and followed.

"I think I'll take a quick wash and change into something clean, Rabiyu. Can I meet up with you at dinner?" He proposed, wrinkling his nose at the stench on his clothes. She nodded distractedly.

"Yes, that's fine. I'll see you at dinner, then, Ferrick?"

"Of course. Till then." He agreed.

"You're in for a surprise, tonight." She said, and flashed him a smile before leading the children away towards the apartment complexes, while he headed to the palace, which served as both the King's residence and as an administrative building, as well as temporary housing for the visiting Hylian guests.

Dinner was indeed an eye-opener. The Gerudo put on a show of their military prowess and a bit of a theatrical production at the same time.

In the massive outdoor dining courtyard that the Gerudo took their meals in, the high table was removed from the raised platform it stood on, turning the area into a makeshift theatre.

Out came ten women, in silk and thin armor, bearing scimitars, daggers, glaives, and even some straight Hylian-style swords. The audience hushed as the women took their positions and froze in place, waiting.

On one corner of the platform four women began to play, on drums and horn, flute and guitar. The performers unfroze, and began to fight each other, movements slow and precise, almost dancing rather than battling.

A scimitar was swung, a narrow dodge, thrust of dagger, parry, and riposte. Circle, feint, strike and block. Sparks flew as steel collided, retreat, circling footwork, then forward to attack once more.

A glaive whirled low, aimed for the legs of the opponents, who leapt up and backwards to escape the blade. They retreated, regrouped and then made their own attack.

The performance continued in this fashion for perhaps fifteen minutes, when the horn sounded loudly and regally, as Ganondorf strode onto the stage, armored and wielding a massive scimitar. Rabiyu entered from the opposite end of the platform, similarly armed with two smaller curved blades.

At first they blended into the two distinct teams battling, but gradually, the women took their lead, and Ganondorf and Rabiyu began to emerge as leaders of the two groups.

The Gerudo King's attacks showed off his technique and power, while Rabiyu's movements displayed her precision and agility.

The original ten women faded out of battle to the sides of the raised stage, until finally it was only the King and his daughter fighting. The intensity and speed of their movements increased, and they began to sweat. The rhythm of the drums increased as the two fighters battled on.

At last Ganondorf seemed to gain the upper hand, and drawing a dagger from his hip, threw the knife at his heir. It spun through the air, flying at her head.

In a beautifully rehearsed action, she caught the blade between her teeth. The Gerudos in the crowd shouted in approval. With a quick motion, her hands still gripping her scimitars, Rabiyu tossed the dagger into the air, this time catching the grip in her mouth. She ran at her father, dodging a swipe of his sword, and stopped in front of him. She swung her head as if to cut his throat with the knife, and Ganondorf stepped back slowly, dropping his scimitar and bowing his head in a gesture of defeat. Rabiyu took a step back as well, and bowed to him, spitting the dagger to the ground. The music stopped.

"And that, good people" Ganondorf shouted to the rapt audience, "Is why you should never underestimate women!" The Gerudo women roared, and the Hylian men, after a moment of hesitation, joined the women in thunderous applause.

The performers took a quick break to freshen up and change into more comfortable clothing, and joined the people for the feast.

The moons were just rising as the women brought out the food for the night's banquet. The trays smelt mouth-watering. On the precious nights, the crowds had been encouraged to eat from street vendors, and enjoy the entertainment in the streets, so dinner in the common dining area had been a modest affair – the meals larger than usual, but nowhere near this lavish. Not this night. Tonight, the cooks on duty in the kitchens had gone all out.

There was whole roasted Guay, and Cuccoo. Fish baked in a lemony sauce, or thick beef steaks, grilled. And for the more adventurous, there were Tektites steamed in their shell, and fried Leever, both Gerudo delicacies.

One serving table held nothing more than plate after plate of soft strips of naan, and individual dipping bowls which could be filled with melted butter or curry. There were massive servings of saffron rice, and couscous.

There were even fruit and vegetables - staples of Hylian eating but expensive for a Gerudo to get – carrots, celery, different types of squash, and salad greens, apples, peaches, pears, and more, all magically kept cool in the fading heat of night.

The Hylian guests sampled _Kalika_, a creamy, hot local Gerudo drink that tasted of lemon and mint. Fruit juice and milk stayed chilled in charmed pitchers. Coffee was available, but most Gerudo seemed to prefer cooled tea or hot spiced chai tea.

With all this food available, the diners stuffed themselves full to bursting, and as conversation wound down, they slowly headed home to sleep. Worn out from the day of celebration and particularly from the display of military prowess, Ganondorf left the high table (which had been replaced after the performance) early, as did Rabiyu, and Ferrick too.

Nabooru stayed in the dining area late into the night, nursing a cup of chai, and looking at the stars and moons, lost in thought.

**Chapter Seven: Of Quagmires**

Rabiyu was awoken by Ferrick returning to bed after using the lavatory down the hall. She sighed as he curled against her on the straw-stuffed mattress, content. She'd only known him for two days, and already she couldn't imagine her life without him.

And he was going to leave in two days. A lifetime of sleeping alone in an empty bed…

Rabiyu had despised her mother for most of her life, for leaving her and her father. But suddenly she could understand why Naotu had left this lonely life for a man's arms. No. Her father had loved her mother. Strong, wise, responsible Ganondorf. There had been no reason for Naotu to be lonely.

She would be strong. Had to be. Ferrick would leave and maybe he'd forget her. They would probably never see each other again, and Rabiyu would just have to go on with her life. She would seduce enough men to become pregnant, raise a child, lead her people when her father died, live a long, productive life the best she could… Two days. Two days to forget about that.

"Make the most of them," she whispered to herself, and Ferrick stirred with a lazy _hm_? "It's nothing." Rabiyu told him, and he settled back into sleep. After a while, she did too.

The night was unusually chilly for being in the desert, so Ferrick slept lightly.

Footsteps on tiled floor.

Someone in the room…

Rabiyu?

No.

Rabiyu was spooned against him.

A rasp of metal. He opened his eyes to see a dark figure looming over him.

Ferrick sat up quickly just as the blade came down, so the dagger meant for his side only sliced open his forearm. Rabiyu sprung awake next to him when he cried out in pain. Unarmed, Ferrick did the only thing he knew of to defend himself – he tore off the ear cuff on his long ear that suppressed his magic and hurled a bolt of pure magic, everything he had, at the figure. The blast pushed the man away just a step with its force, and lit the room up with blinding light. The assassin reeled, flash-blind. Rabiyu raced to the wall where her weapons were, and the assassin rubbed frantically at his eyes to clear them. Ferrick tackled him from the side. The man was larger and heavier than he was, but caught off balance, he toppled over nonetheless.

"Ferrick! Off!" Rabiyu screamed, and the young Hylian leapt away from the man. She swung a short sword at the intruder, and the man blocked it with his dagger, and took a swing of his own. She dodged the blow, slipped into the man's guard, and with a shriek she buried her sword into the assassin's gut. He screamed as she twisted the blade, slashed wildly at her, and then slumped over when Ferrick swung a carved stone candelabrum into the assassin's head. The man's body twitched on the floor, puddle of blood spreading.

Rabiyu looked ill.

"He tried to kill us!" Ferrick exclaimed unnecessarily. "When we were sleeping!"

"He did. Ferrick… That was my first kill." A crash came from down the hall. Their eyes darted to each other's in horror. "If they're attacking me…"

"Your father!" Ferrick said in realization. They rushed out of the room with their makeshift weapons. As he ran, Ferrick summoned up a ball of bright light that zoomed in front of him, illuminating the corridor.

Sure enough, there was a man in dark clothing lurking outside of the Gerudo King's bedroom. Running in front of Ferrick, Rabiyu gave a scream of rage and charged at the intruder with sword drawn. The man turned as she attacked, his own sword coming around. They clashed, muscles straining, and broke apart to circle and strike again.

Ferrick caught up to Rabiyu, mind working furiously. A traitorous Hylian guest! The King of Hyrule would surely not approve. From what he knew, the Gerudo King had been working to become an ally of Hyrule, and furthermore, to make his territory a province of the great country. This would surely count as treason. And they'd tried to kill Ferrick in his sleep, him, a Hylian – one of their own countrymen!

He circled around the pair fighting in the wide hallway, and darted in to smash the assassin over the head with his stone candelabra, which finally gave in to the stresses of Ferrick's improper use of it and shattered. The man and Rabiyu, locked together, toppled into and through the Gerudo King's bedroom door into the room itself.

Inside the room, Ganondorf leapt out his bed, naked. The assassin tried to go for him, but Rabiyu kept his attention with a flash of her curved sword. And then Ganondorf pounced, arms slipping around the attacker's neck and tangling him into a chokehold. The intruder gasped for air and dropped his weapon. The thick muscles in the Gerudo King's arms flexed, and the man went from red, to purple, to blue, and then he slumped in the King's grasp. Ganondorf released the man, letting the unconscious body flop to the floor.

Ferrick leaned against the doorframe, trying to slow his racing heart. Ganondorf knelt to check that the assassin was still breathing, and rose when he found his would-be attacker was still alive. He gave the man on the floor a kick for good measure, and turned to the two teenagers.

"Thank you. I didn't hear this man until he was in the room – I soundproofed it the night before – he very well may have injured me if you had not come. Rabiyu." He said suddenly, seeing the blood on her nightclothes, "You were attacked as well? Are you wounded?"

"No, Daddy. I'm fine." When he visibly relaxed, she continued. "There was another man, in my room. I… I killed him."

"Good." Ganondorf said, with no real pleasure.

"Good? But you always said we must try not to kill in raids…"

"I did. We should not kill those who do not harm us. But those who openly move to kill us? We must kill them where they stand. It's called self-defense, Rabiyu. Remember that." His amber eyes moved to Ferrick. "Ferrick Rauros. Are you my ally, then?"

"They tried to kill me too, sir." The young man said in response. The King nodded, eyes suddenly sharp and evaluating.

"You're wounded, boy." Ferrick looked at himself, and sure enough, his arm was cut deeply, blood seeping through his nightshirt. Huh. It must have been the adrenaline that kept him from feeling the sting of pain.

"I suppose I am, sir."

"You should hold the edges of the cut together until it can be stitched up. We must get you medical attention, and move this pile of refuse," Here he nodded at the man out cold on the tiled floor, "to a cell, for the guards to interrogate and for the Hylian envoys to explain. And Rabiyu, your room will need cleaning. …Young man, why are you staring at me?" Ferrick tried to look away.

"Oh! Daddy, Hylians aren't used to nudity. You're naked." Rabiyu said, and Ganondorf looked down at himself.

"Indeed I am. I must've forgotten. My apologies if I offended you, Ferrick Rauros." He moved to pull on a pair of trousers and the Hylian looked away.

"I… I understand that it's a difference in cultures, sir." The young man said, red with embarrassment. Ganondorf chuckled shortly.

"Now I understand why she likes you!" Ferrick flushed slightly at what he decided he would take as a compliment.

Now suitably covered, Ganondorf moved to a painted symbol on the wall beside the doorframe. He channeled a flicker of magic into his right hand and pressed it to the symbol. He held it there until the sign was glowing steadily. He leaned in and spoke to it.

"I want a doctor, three guards, and Joruya the chief of the guards in my room in ten minutes. Do you understand?" The symbol pulsed twice in affirmation, then dimmed to a soft glow. The Gerudo King sighed, and leaned away. "How are you feeling?" He addressed Ferrick.

"Um. A little dizzy, sir."

"I thought so." He went out into the hall and took down the flower that was the focus for his sound-barrier spell, and outside sound returned to the room. He reentered his quarters, closing the door and shuttering the windows. "Don't leave the room, and keep your guard up. There may be more to attack us."

The three waited for five tense minutes largely in silence, stiffening when they heard loud footsteps coming down the hall. A complicated knock was rapped out on the door, and Ganondorf grunted to himself.

"That will be Joruya." He opened the door carefully. A tall woman with a pointed nose like a knife peered into the room. Her copper hair was cut perilously close to her head, and her posture was crisp and imperious.

"Intruders, my Lord?" She asked, voice as sharp as her nose and eyes.

"Assassins, Joruya." Ganondorf corrected, gesturing at the man on the floor who was just coming to, and she scowled.

"Nalya, Tanya, take this piece of trash to the prison." Joruya said to two of the guards crisply, and the pair nodded, pulling restraints from the bulky gold sashes that marked them as Fortress law enforcement. "Kolyaru, stay with me."

As the two women were half-dragging, half-prodding the man down the hall, there was a knock. A second knock came from the hallway, and a chubby woman let herself in. She was carrying a large, stiff-sided bag with her – most likely containing medical supplies.

"Someone called for medical care, sire?"

"Yes. The Hylian boy needs attention. You may fix him up in the workroom three rooms down the hall, to the right." The King ordered, and she nodded, gesturing Ferrick to follow her.

"I'm going with Ferrick, Daddy." Rabiyu informed her father, and he shook his head.

"Oh no. You're going to help me give Joruya a proper account of the attack, my dear."

"Fine," She sighed, and kissed Ferrick's cheek as he left.

"I'll be fine." Her paramour assured her, and left with the doctor. Once he was gone she turned back to Joruya, and proceeded to tell the chief of guards what she remembered of the attempted assassinations.

With the details of the attack retold, Joruya called for another guard to take away the body in Rabiyu's room. A pair of maids were to clean the bloodied room, and more guards ordered to watch the Hylians in their rooms, and inform the Hylian Lord Ambassador of the night's events, and of his sudden appointment with the Gerudo King to explain his men's actions. Ferrick returned with his arm stitched and bandaged, and identified the two men who'd attacked them. The man captured alive was named Tristan Hesta, a Hylian knight, and the dead man was Sir Tristan's squire, Georgio Junstamus.

Rather than wait three hours until dawn, Ganondorf, Rabiyu, and Ferrick relocated to a more secure room with two beds, and under constant surveillance by a trio of guards, fell asleep in the two beds provided by the empty guest room.

A guardswoman woke Ferrick and Rabiyu at noon, just in time for lunch.

"Why didn't you wake us sooner?" Rabiyu asked of the guard, who shrugged.

"I tried at eight, but you two just rolled over and went back to sleep." She said, "I figured you needed your sleep."

Rabiyu grumbled at this, and the two teenagers headed for Rabiyu's room – corpse gone and blood washed away – to dress for the day.

They headed for lunch, arm in arm.

As Rabiyu drank hot chai, Ferrick helped himself to some _Kalika_ – which he'd become rather fond of – and wondered why all the women were smiling at him. He brought this up to Rabiyu, who was peeling an orange. She grinned at him.

"News travels fast in the Fortress." She said simply. "We may need men for reproductive purposes, but we're not over fond of them, except for my father – who takes care of us all. When my people lived in Lake Hylia, we Gerudo had many men. Not as many men as women, but enough. They looked after us, and we trusted them. When our men were all wiped out and we were driven to the Wasteland, Hylian men could have been kind, but they mistreated us. So we no longer trust men – not until they've proved their worth. But the thing is – we start out wanting to trust men, but learn we can't. It's not realistic."

"And I've 'proved my worth'?" He wondered, not sure he liked the concept, not exactly.

"Ferrick." Rabiyu said gently. "You're kind to me. You helped save the King's life. But most importantly, you saved a Gerudo from one of your own people. That counts for a lot." The youth frowned.

"Huh. Okay." He said after a moment, going back to his naan and curry.

Rabiyu had left Ferrick in the library – he might have been leaving in two days, but everyone needed a little alone time – when she happened upon her father in his study.

He was gripping the edge of the desk, both hands white-knuckled. His brow was furrowed, thin lips pressed together tightly. Ganondorf looked positively furious.

"Daddy? What's wrong." He grimaced, and shook his head as if to shake something off. When he finally looked at her, he seemed a little calmer, but his eyes still blazed.

"That filth – the knight Tristan – had poison on him, in a capsule in his mouth. We only managed to get out of him that he was hired to kill us – and not by a Hylian." Rabiyu went white under her dark skin. "He said he was hired by a Gerudo woman. And then he bit down on the capsule, and was gone."

"Was it Tabiya?" His daughter wondered, and Ganondorf sighed.

"Apparently not. She has alibis for every night the Hylians have been here. But you are smart to think of her." Rabiyu shrugged.

"She's the only I can think of who would benefit from having both of us – and Ferrick – out of the way."

"Whoever it was, your boy Ferrick was not a hired target. But the man you killed – Georgio – he's next in line of inheritance of the family fortune after Ferrick, who is an only child. When he saw your lover in bed with you, he must have thanked his lucky stars and went after him first."

"I can't believe anyone would kill their own family, just like that!" She exclaimed, aghast.

"Hylians are colder-blooded than our people. Power, money, influence – to many Hylians these are more important than family. Even Tabiya would not kill her mother or sisters, let alone her daughters, just to be Queen." Rabiyu shook her head at that.

"That's awful. Daddy, could she have hired the two assassins in advance? We have been planning this party for some time…"

"And who better to blame than the Hylians? Clever girl. However, this attempt seems to be too obvious, too desperate for Tabiya's taste. The Hylian Ambassador seemed appalled at the news, even offered to undergo a truth ritual to prove his innocence, as did all of the men we questioned. And legally, I cannot force Tabiya to do a truth ritual, so it seems we are left without an answer." Rabiyu made a loud, rude noise in the back of her throat.

"Is anyone guarding Nabooru and her family?" She wondered, and Ganondorf nodded.

"Already done, as of last night. I will be keeping Tabiya's movements under watch from now on. If she did order the attack, hopefully she will be wise enough not to try again."

"I hope so. But what I want to know is why last night? You'd think that after we showed off our ability to fight our attackers might be more cautious."

"Perhaps once they saw what we were capable of, they thought they should approach us when we were tired."

"I guess. Why in this world did they think they could away with it?" A flicker of frustration and annoyance sparked in the King's eyes.

"Enough, Rabiyu." He growled, "You ask too many questions to which I don't know the answers." She wilted.

"Sorry." He made a strangled noise of deep frustration.

"Stop that. I'm not mad at you. We've come out of this alive, but uninformed. My hands are tied,-"

"-And you hate not being in control." Rabiyu finished for him.

"Yes." He pinched the bridge of his nose and flapped a hand at her. "Leave me please. I have work to do, and you have your young man's company to enjoy. Enjoy it – it won't last much longer."

"Don't remind me, father." She growled, sounding quite a bit like her own father as she did. Ganondorf shrugged expressively.

"I'll see you at dinner, Rabiyu." He said, and she turned to leave, shutting the office door behind her.

The fourth day went by like a flash of lightning. Neither Ferrick or Rabiyu mentioned their upcoming separation to each other, simultaneously making themselves fret even more over it.

They joined the festivities on the street that night. The atmosphere was more subdued, because of the attack, but the partygoers still enjoyed themselves. It was a good night. The only incident was when a knight approached Ferrick in the crowd.

"Ferrrick. Raurrosss." He slurred, definitely intoxicated, "Yeh – Ambassador's aide, boy. You like that girl, yeh? You doin' foreign relations inna way no man did afore." A finger was shakily at Ferrick's chest. "Keepit up boy, keepin' it up." The man finished, swaying where he stood. Ferrick squinted at the man, trying to identify him in the torchlight.

"Sir Fran?" He wondered. The man nodded, then grabbed at his head, grimacing, obliviously regretting the gesture.

"Yes boy, thas my name, don' wearit out." Ferrick sighed, glancing apologetically at Rabiyu.

"Are you feeling tired, sir?"

"A lil'."

"Would you like me to help you back to the palace? The way is rather dark, after all."

"Yeh. You'r a good boy, Raurosss."

"Thank you sir." Ferrick hooked an arm around Sir Fran's, and turned to Rabiyu. "I'm going to take him to his room. Do you want to come, or should we meet up somewhere?"

"I'll come."

"I hope you don't mind." He said apologetically. She shrugged, jostled by the women in the crowds.

"You're a good person, Ferrick." Rabiyu said quietly. He smiled at her.

"Thank you."

Supporting the Hylian knight together, they made their way back to the palace, saw Sir Fran to his rooms, and headed back to the streets.

They stayed long into the night, and returned to Rabiyu's rooms to sleep within earshot of a guard standing vigilant throughout the night.

Morning dawned early that day. The fifth and final day.

Rabiyu watched Ferrick dress quietly from her spot on the low bed, hair and bedclothes draped around her shoulders.

"Ferrick?"

"Hm?" He wondered, and she swallowed thickly.

"I don't… I don't want this to end. Us, I mean." He looked at her, hazel eyes meeting her own amber ones.

"Does it have to?"

"Well, yes. You're going to leave to live in the Hylian capital, and I'll stay here in the Fortress. We probably won't meet again."

"Why? I want to see you again."

"Because you have obligations, to your family and estate, as I have duties here with my people." Ferrick smiled, and shook his head wrily.

"I'm the official aide to the Hylian Ambassador to the Gerudos now, Rabiyu. The Lord Ambassador informed me he wants to employ me on a long-term basis, yesterday. We'll be going back and forth from Hyrule Castle City to the Fortress, and even making stops at the border town Parchen – which is a half-day's ride from here, just on the edge of the Plains and drought country. We can send each other letters – meet in person several times a year. It doesn't have to end like this. You don't have to be alone."

"Of course I will! All my life I've known I'll have to be alone, nothing but work and duties 'til the day I die!" She raged, eyes going puffy and red, tears leaking out. "You may want this to last, but a long-distance relationship never works. One of us is going to slip away. Why not just end it on a good note?"

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" Ferrick sighed, gangly frame leaning against the bedroom wall. "I don't want this to end, and I'm pretty sure you don't either. If we can get the Haunted Wasteland to be a part of Hyrule, the way your father wants, a Hylian representative will have to live among the Gerudo. I could be that representative. I like it here, others might not. The Gerudo like me – you said it yourself. You've got to look to the future, it might not be so bad." He rose then, brushing a gentle hand over her wet cheek. "I'm going to breakfast. You might want to wash your face with cold water – I don't think you want to appear in front of the officials looking as if you'd been crying. Which you have." He gave her a gentle kiss, and left.

Rabiyu sniffled in her room for a few minutes, before bucking herself up and washing her face and dressing.

After breakfast the Hylian entourage presented Hyrule's gifts to Rabiyu for her coming of age. Ferrick stood next to her in the showroom the men had hastily erected in one of the larger rooms of the palace.

There were six fine horses, to improve the Gerudo's prized horse-breeding bloodlines.

Delicately brewed perfumes in colored glass bottles – the glass craftsmanship not as fine as standard Gerudo glasswork, but lovely nonetheless.

Time-sealed jars of apples, pears, grapes, melons, nuts, citrus fruits, caviar, truffles, and honey. Rabiyu opened a sealed basket of apples, biting into it with delight.

A range of gold and silver jewelry, ranging in tastes from bulky and gauche to delicate and lovely.

Beautiful ceramic jars and urns to hold water.

Fine soaps, wonderfully scented.

Bolts of vividly dyed fabrics, wool, cotton, and linen.

Elaborate wood carvings, pieces made to hang on walls, and small statues to stand on their own for display.

But it was the books, carefully bound in leather that made Rabiyu forget propriety and bodily grab Ferrick in a tight hug, beaming with delight. He grinned down at her, a little dazed from her force. There were books on Hylian court etiquette, poetry, history, warfare, and books of prayer. Having known her for four days, Ferrick now knew that Rabiyu valued knowledge very highly.

"Thank you," She whispered, smiling, "Oh. Thank you." Sir Fran, standing tall near the two, smiled down toothily at the Gerudo princess.

"It weren't nothing, Princess." He said in his uneducated voice, a strange difference in the more refined tones of the other Hylians and his own.

Despite the attack the night before, and two Hylian soldiers dead, it was a good moment for Hylian-Gerudo relations.

For dinner, the cooks served paella in the dining courtyard, a seafood and rice dish flavored with saffron and spice, to celebrate the last night of the Hylian's visit at the Fortress.

That night Rabiyu and Ferrick did not couple, simply lay in bed and held each other, talking late into the night.

"I'll tell you that first thing I'm going to do when I get home," He told her, stroking her shoulder. She smiled.

"Other than write me a letter?"

"Well, yes - other than that. I'm going to learn how to fight – magically and physically. So much has happened in the past five days. Two weeks ago I'd never been past the city wall. I've travelled across the Greater Hyrule Plains, come here, been attacked in the night, nearly assassinated, and met you. I want to be prepared for anything that might happen, especially since I'm going to be travelling a lot in the future, across the plains, where there are highwaymen waiting for lone travelers, and stalchildren at night."

"Mmm." She said dreamily, and he looked over at her, smiling sheepishly.

"Are you falling asleep on me?" Ferrick asked with a huff of laughter.

"Nn." She cuddled against him, eyes drooping.

"Well, goodnight, Rabiyu."

"'Night."

They slept.

Ferrick woke Rabiyu up an hour before dawn. She dragged herself out of bed without complaint, splashing lukewarm water onto her face from an urn in the small washroom in her quarters. Ferrick was already dressed in travelling clothes – made of thin cotton, he had been far more prepared for the journey than his fellow envoys, and had not packed anything made of wool. She dressed with a minimum of clumsiness, and hand in hand, they headed for the kitchens.

The kitchens that fed the Gerudo were located in a separate building from the palace so the food smells would not enter the palatial residential and administrative building. Even at this early hour, the cooks were awake, baking pita bread and cooking rice for the morning buffet available to the Gerudo every morning. A long table stood in the breakfast room of the kitchen, located just off of the main entrance to the kitchens.

Typically, food was available for breakfast from just before dawn to two hours before dawn. Women would come, carrying the traditional canvas bag for breakfast, select foods for their meal, and head for their own private spot to enjoy the morning, alone.

Meat was not served at breakfast, by a Gerudo custom dating back to their ancestors' settlement of Lake Hylia. Eggs were cooked in several different ways – fried, poached, boiled in their shell, and broken-and-boiled in broth. There were thick slices of cheese, a variety of citrus fruits, and dates. Yogurt and sticky rice came in single-serving disposable bowls made from palm fronds and a thin coating of wax. There were pita bread pockets stuffed with aged cheese, nuts, and honey – a dish called _nakne_. There was an egg casserole made of pita, onion, and cheese layered upon each other, soaked in egg and then baked – by the name of _nagyen_. Honey, butter, and sour orange jam were all available to spread on warm, unleavened bread.

There were great steaming vats of tea, coffee, and _Kalika_ - the creamy lemon-mint drink favored by many Gerudo – as well as cold barrels of citrus juices and milk, all ready to be poured into a canteen and taken away.

The food was still being laid out when Ferrick and Rabiyu entered, and they made their selections, filling the two canvas breakfast bags Rabiyu had brought, and left. She took him down a winding path through the Fortress's back alleys, ending close to the edge of town, where a small shrine and attending benches were carved from the red sandstone cliff.

"This is where I eat breakfast every morning." She said, as if this was an important secret, something special to tell someone's lover. For all Ferrick knew, perhaps it was.

Rabiyu laid her breakfast bag on a stone bench, kneeling to clear the sand away from the shrine. On a small pedestal sat the crudely carved statue of the Goddess Din, eyes made of red gems - garnets, rubies, maybe only red glass. Stubs of candles and used incense cones littered the Goddess's feet.

"No flowers?" She shook her head, frowning.

"We have very few flowers here. Why would we pick them and end their lives that much sooner?"

"Oh. Sorry. I forgot.

" Rabiyu shrugged. She sat back once the sand was clear of the shrine, and pulled herself onto the bench, pulling out some sticky _nakne_ to munch on.

"I'd imagine I'd do the same thing if I were in the Hylian capital." She said, washing down pita bread with a gulp of _Kalika_from her canteen.

"I suppose." After that they were quiet as they ate, tracking the sun as it rose over the edge of the desert in the west. The wind blew sand over their shoes, whining. Rabiyu's amber eyes were thoughtful but content. Ferrick watched her for a while, wanting to remember her like this once he had gone.

At last it came time to return to the palace, and for Ferrick to meet up with his fellow Hylians and leave. He'd packed the previous night, and a cleaning woman had already taken his things and brought them to the caravan that would take the Hylians home. He and Rabiyu kissed desperately before parting. They would not break decorum and touch again in public.

The Hylians saddled up, and swung themselves onto their horse's back. Rabiyu watched from the palace steps, standing at Queen Nabooru's side.

Gerudo King Ganondorf paused to speak to each Hylian before they left. He shook hands with the young Hylian aide, and smiled somberly at him.

"Ferrick Rauros, you are welcome here."

"Thank you sir, I will extend the courtesy and say that you are also welcome in my family's lands. Good morrow, sir." He said formally in return. Ganondorf nodded, eyes approving.

"Good morrow, young man, and a swift journey."

The train of travelers began to move, and their speed was deceptive. Ferrick did not push his steed hard, yet the Fortress quickly melted away, as did the high gate, and soon it was noon and the entrance to the valley was small and distant.

Finally, Ferrick stopped turning in his saddle and faced forward, looking at the train of horses ahead. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

It was time to go home.

Rabiyu stood on the steps of the palace. When the Hylians were gone, Link came out of hiding in the shade of the alleys. He'd worn a turban the entire time the guests had been there, to hide his ears, but even then his mother had kept him away from the men, so his secret could not be discovered.

"Sister Rabiyu!" He said, tugging at her pants and snapping her out of her melancholy. "C'mon! You promised to show me that trick with the sword once the Hylians were gone!"

"Coming, Link." She said, surprised by the smile that spread across her face.

Link gave a yelp of delight and dragged her to the fighting grounds.

**Chapter Eight: Of Learning**

Her eyes were shut tight as she played her ocarina, perched on a fallen log in the woods. Skulkids sat at her feet, listening to the melodies escaping from the instrument in her hands, music wilder than any professional musician could produce, vivid and improvisational.

With her eyes shut, and music in her ears, her senses expanded. She could feel the Skulkids lounging on a bed of moss by her log seat, a jay alert in a nearby beech, a deku scrub in its nest, a wolfos rooting at the entrance of a rabbit warren. An owl sleeping in a tree hollow, a pair of fox kits squabbling over a bit of tendon and bone in their den, insects buzzing past her skin, and Mido approaching from half a mile away.

Saria exhaled slowly, note warbling. She let her mind brush through the music, searching for Link's mind, but he was not playing his ocarina at the moment.

His friendship was precious to her – she'd felt a connection with him even when she'd first seen him, felt the touch of destiny, and then of destiny thwarted when the Gerudo raider had claimed him as her own.

It was incredible, really, how fast he was growing. His voice changed, mind learning new concepts, growing in complexity. She'd never realized how swiftly time passed for her and her fellow Kokiri - immortal but immature – not until she'd met Link and watched him grow. To make things even more intriguing, the barren land he lived in fascinated her, and the forest held a certain interest for Link as well.

She could only hope that she was grown up enough, smart and interesting enough for him to maintain an interest in her when he'd reached adulthood.

"Mum! Get up! It's time to wake up!" Link jumped up and down on the spot in glee.

Nabooru grunted, and rubbed at her eyes, rolling over on the thick bed roll in her room.

"Nn. What time is it, Link?"

"It's seven o'clock. I even looked at the courtyard clock, not just the sun, too! Reya and Aunties Aya and Dinah got up at dawn because it's her first day of training too, and they prob'ly already had breakfast by now, but you said to wait until seven so I did." He finished breathlessly.

"All right, I'm up, I'm up!" She said, levering herself up and stretching luxuriously before climbing to her feet. Nabooru dressed quickly. She eyed her son. "Training starts at ten. Have you got your sword?"

"In the common room, Mum."

"And your bow?"

"Uh-huh."

"And your sandals?"

"Yes, I'm ready!"

"Fine then. Let's go to breakfast." Link nodded, and grabbed his practice weapons, strapping them on, and snatched up his breakfast bag. He was so excited that he barely remembered to tap the doorframe as they left the apartment.

They hurried to the kitchens, where the breakfast buffet was set up. Nabooru helped herself to a small helping of _nagyen,_butter and naan, and coffee, as well as an orange. Link had milk, broken-and-boiled eggs poached in vegetable broth, a bowl of rice, some cubes of cheddar, and a clementine at his mother's insistence. She also kept him from eating too much sticky and sweet _nakne_, despite his whining and pleading.

They returned to the apartment complex to eat together in the rock garden courtyard. Nabooru and her family had decided to stay in their old home despite Nabooru's elevation to Queen of the Gerudos. The apartment they lived in was spacious enough, though the second-hand furniture had been replaced by high quality furnishings. Ganondorf had pushed Nabooru to move into the palace with him, offering her her own set of private rooms as well as for Link, but she'd declined, stating that living in her current home would keep her humble. And it had. Ganondorf had graciously let the matter go.

"Come on, then." She urged when they finished their meal, sitting on a wooden bench in a shady recess in the courtyard wall. Link made a face but tilted his chin up, so his adopted mother could wipe his face with a damp rag. When she drew back, he eyed the position of the sun.

"Mum, it's eight now. Can I go play? There's lots of time."

"No. I know you – you'll wear yourself out and then you'll drag behind your agemates in training."

"No I won't!"

"You want to show those agemates of yours that you're just as good a Gerudo as them, laddy-boy, don't you?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, kicking at a stone in the sand strewn road.

"Then no playing." Link slumped slightly at that announcement. "Not this morning, baby. Mummy knows best." She reached out and drew him into a hug with one arm. The eight-year old grabbed her waist in a hug, breathing her scent in, and letting it soothe him.

"Fine." He said into her blouse.

"Tell you what, why don't we go to the library and pick out some books to read?"

"'Kay." He said a little more enthusiastically, frown fading.

"Come on then, Link, let's go."

"Okay, Mum."

Nabooru took his hand and headed for the library.

Ten o' clock came, the sun beating down high overhead.

Five children stood in a line in one of the Gerudo Fortress's training grounds.

Link stood in the sand, artificially red hair shining in the sun. His cousin Reya, slim and dark-skinned, stood beside him, eyes confident but quiet.

They'd played together with Haati and Sooru before – they were Link and Reya's agemates, after all. Shy Haati was the daughter of Saaboru, the head of the Industry Guild, which looked after mining, glassworks, construction, the smithies, general manufacturing, and transportation. Stubborn Sooru was Kooru's daughter, again an important figure among the Gerudo – Kooru was the leader of the Arts Guild.

But the fifth girl they did not know. She was tall, even for her age – and she looked at least two years older than Link. Her clothes were not as high quality as the other children's, her blunt practice weapons had seen hard use. She wore ratty straw sandals rather than ones of leather. Her scarlet-eyed gaze was hard, and focused, her lips pinched tight.

Overall, she did not look like someone very fun, the other four decided unanimously but silently.

Soft footsteps, crunching on dust and sand, approached. To the quintet's surprise, their tutor was the princess Rabiyu herself.

"That's enough, stop gawking." She said briskly. "I'm to be your instructor. First time for you, first time for me." Rabiyu stopped in front of the line of children, rubbing her hands together as she considered them. "Most of you are under my tutelage because you're the offspring of high-profile women, except for Aru," She nodded at the shabbily dressed, tall girl, "Who is here because she's a genius." Aru did not smile at this, just nodded back silently. "None of you are from old lineages, so you don't have family tutors and old money, all of your families are up and coming. For whatever reason, your mothers put you in the public formal training system now that you've graduated from school, and I was assigned to you. What you will learn will be a bit different from what the other children will be learning – I'm training you to be the leaders of your generation – and that means you'll be learning all about Hylians as well as everything else."

Sooru made a rude noise.

"Stop that Sooru, I heard that. Our King wants the Gerudos to become part of Hyrule proper, so it's important to learn about the country we'll be a part of. And besides, you won't be learning about that for a while yet." Rabiyu grinned at them. "Enough talking. You've all learned the basics of weapons form, so today I'm going to teach you exercises to build up your strength and stamina."

Link groaned quietly. Reya jabbed him in the side with her elbow and he quieted.

"Right. Follow me. We're going to do some running drills." She led them past the Fortress walls to the edge of the Wasteland, to the base of an oversized sand dune. "I want you to run up the dune, over the side, and back again, ten times. On my mark… Get going!"

The five children hurriedly obeyed.

Rabiyu kept the first day of formal training short, as the children were unused to so much exercise. As the first day drew to a close, the children's mothers came to bring them home. The Gerudo princess sent them off with strict orders about their bedtime as they left.

She walked the unnaturally quiet Aru to her home when no one came for her.

As the days went by, the training began to take a regular pattern. There would be a day of physical training, followed by a day of education.

The physical side of it was fairly predictable; strength and stamina drills, weapons (scimitar, knife, glaive) and bare-handed combat forms, and archery practice. They were given lessons on horsemanship, a field in which Reya needed no further instruction. She ended up helping Rabiyu with the others. After that first day of training in horsemanship, Dinah warned her daughter not to let it swell her head overmuch. Rabiyu began instructing Link separately on a Hylian-style straight sword, declaring, "One day you may have to pass as a normal Hylian, and you'd best be prepared for it."

Haati fumbled through every exercise, and only Link's encouragements kept her going. Sooru was fairly even in what she did, but often sulked when she was not the best in their group in whatever activity they were doing at the time. Reya was best in archery, particularly on horseback. Aru excelled at everything, stoic and relentless. She rarely spoke, but as time went on, the other four discovered she had a dry wit to her. As the five grew to know each other better, she opened up to them, and often made sharp remarks.

Link struggled in most things at first, despite being a boy and thus theoretically stronger. He was best in hand-to-hand combat, but not much else. But his stubborn persistence paid off, and he eventually maintained a skill level just below Aru's once he'd mastered a skill.

Several months in they were started on lock-picking, wall and tree climbing, pick-pocketing, and dirty fighting.

The children's favorite part of physical training was the games Rabiyu created for them. She'd invent war games, games to teach them strategy, games to test what they'd learned, even silly games like who could run backwards or roll down a sand dune fastest.

On the other days, Rabiyu trained them in more intellectual areas. She picked out books for them to read – to increase their reading rate and teach them different subjects. Sometimes they read aloud to improve their diction, or quietly – often they were given reading as homework, and were expected to discuss what they'd read the next day. She assigned them mathematical problems (which Link adored), typically word problems that were immediately applicable to the children's lives. Some days were spent simply creating different arts and crafts projects.

It was these intellectual pursuits that Link did best in.

Rabiyu took the children on trips to the different industries of the Fortress. They were taken to the glassworks, on a two day trip to the mines, led into the heart of the massive Gerudo kitchens, shown a construction site, the center for the law enforcement and security. The five children were shown the Mage's building, given a tour of the Gauntlet, the waterworks, a few livestock farms and fisheries in the broad Gerudo Valley. They were taken behind the scenes of several art events – in the Fortress, such events were free admission for all. She even took them to see King Ganondorf working in his office, to his great displeasure. (Link was pretty sure the only reason she got away with that stunt because she was the king's favorite daughter.) So it was no surprise that 'field trips' - as Rabiyu called them – would become the highlight of intellectual training for Link, Reya, Aru, Haati and Sooru.

For two weeks during the height of summer, the children were given swimming lessons a few hours every day before lunch, when the sun was at its zenith. A section of the Bathing Falls was roped off during these lessons.

With every day but Highday busy with training, the days passed quickly, and before they knew it, Rabiyu's students had trained under her for a year and were ready to be trained in magic.

Of course, as most things went, there were bound to be some difficulties on that first day.

**Chapter Nine: Of Magic**

Rabiyu canceled training for four days before Link's agemates were due to be trained in magic. She claimed it was to come up with some kind of lesson plan, and mentioned an impressive display of magic for their first day. But Link knew she was really going to leave the Fortress and ride to Parchen to meet that strange Hylian who was courting her. They were going to kiss and have 'special alone time' like what his aunties Aya and Dinah had sometimes in their room, the door locked. Or what he was pretty sure King Ganondorf did with his Mum when she slept in the palace overnight. His adopted mother was married to Ganondorf, which Link supposed made the man his father, but Gerudo relationships did not really work that way. Link and the King rarely talked, though the man would always acknowledge Link when he saw him. He would ask a question about Link's education, or the weather, some trivial kind of subject. Link wasn't always comfortable around the King, because of the way the man would watch him, amber eyes fixed and intent.

Link made a note in his mind to tease Rabiyu about her lover later, when he could. But not in front of his agemates. That would be mean. He saw Rabiyu as an older sister, almost. She often took the time to help him with his weapons forms, even before formal training. She'd taught him the fox and sand cat forms for bare-handed combat, shown him to throw a knife. Rabiyu always recommended the best books, and sometimes she sat next to him at the high table during lunch or dinner.

He hoped she'd be back soon. Until then, there was practice, and play.

"What? There is not."

"Is."

"Is not."

"So is. Lanya told me there's a treasure behind the Grand Cascade." Sooru folded her arms, self-satisfied.

Link's brow furrowed.

"The water would wash anything that's there away." Sooru snorted at that.

"I didn't say it was right there, Link. I said behind. Lanya said it's in a deep cave you can get to behind the falls."

"Shut it! Both of you!" Aru snapped, who had been spinning a blunt dagger on her finger, snatched it up and sheathed it. "Rabiyu's coming!"

"I don't think anything's there, Sooru." Link said with a grumble, yawning widely. It was barely dawn.

"I dare you to check it out." Sooru said with a sneer.

Aru smacked both of them on the head, settling into line for their instructor.

"I said shut up. You know she likes us to wait quietly!"

Link stuck his tongue out at her. He nudged Sooru's ankle with his foot to get her attention.

"Done." He told her quietly. Sooru grinned. Reya looked on in silent disapproval.

"Just look at all your shining faces!" Rabiyu said as she approached, clapping her hands together. The sun had just crept over the horizon in the west. "Did you have a good break?"

"Was yours?" Link countered. The princess gave him a feral grin, making her look uncannily like her father in that moment.

"Oh yes." Reya and Haati smothered giggles behind their hands. "As I'm sure you've heard by now, I was visiting my lover in Parchen. I went to see him for three reasons. One, of course, was because I wanted to see him. Second, he's a mage of some ability and has been helping me with my lesson plans for your magical training, and I did need the help – I like fighting far better than magic. Lastly, Hylians use magic differently from our people, so he's lent me a device that will help in figuring out what Link can do with his magic. Now. I promised to give you a demonstration of some of the things magic can do. So let's head out to the desert. Follow me."

Obediently the five children followed their instructor to the gate that separated the Fortress from the Haunted Wasteland.

"Ho there!" The gatekeeper shouted down the road as they neared her, waving. "What's your business in the wide Waste?"

"Training exercise, Nooya." Rabiyu said, and the woman nodded, pulling the small gate open by herself.

The gate to the desert was miniscule compared to the one that led to the Hylian Plains. Traffic through this gate was infinitely less, as few found a reason to enter the scorching wasteland, the few that did either older girls on their way to their Woman's Ordeal, or dreamers looking to fast for several days in the harsh expanse – claiming that visions came upon at the height of hunger or thirst. Such dreamers were sent out with a reasonable amount of food and drink, and a temporary tracking seal applied to their skin. They were given a set time to return to the Fortress, or be tracked down and returned to the Fortress by force. This procedure had been invented by King Ganondorf himself, to see that visionaries were not lost through their own foolishness. There had only been a single loss so far since the new rules were put into effect – and by scorpion sting, not carelessness with necessities.

"When should I expect you back?" Nooya the gatekeeper asked, pulling out a records book.

"We should be back in four hours. I have a tracking sigil on my person." The older woman scribbled intently, then nodded.

"Very well then, Princess. I'll see you in a few."

"Thank you, Nooya."

Rabiyu led her students out into the desert and had them sit against the outer wall of the Fortress.

"I'd like you all to take off your ear clips." She said. "As you all know, you wear these to keep you from using your magic until you're old enough to be trained. Well, you're old enough now. Link, I know you don't wear one – don't worry about that – because Hylian magic is different from Gerudo magic. I'll be instructing you separately with your magic, but I want you here to learn about Gerudo magic too. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, I guess." Link said, frowning. He didn't like his Hylian differences pointed out. It made him feel like a fake.

"Buck it up, my lad. Now girls, do you notice a difference, now that your clip is off?" The four girls nodded.

"Feels… fizzy and cold." Reya volunteered, scrunching up her nose.

"That's right. Our power makes us feel cooler, where a Hylian's would not. But it should not feel fizzy. We get our power from the sun. Now concentrate on the sun on your skin, let it sink into your pores and into your body. Let it melt your cold, fizzy magic, taking deep breaths in," (As one the children sucked in a breath) "Hold it in," (they did) "And out in a deep breath," (Link and the girls exhaled slowly) "Keeping your lungs empty for a moment, and then deep breath again. Hold it, then out, hold, and in again." Rabiyu led them through several minutes of measured breathing before stopping them. "And stop. Do you still feel fizzy?" A chorus of 'no's. "That's what your magic should feel like, cool, but moving calmly. Whenever you feel a fizzing sensation, that means your power is not in control, and you should not attempt any kind of spell. Without control, whatever magic you are working will go awry. Women have died because of spells going wrong on them. Remember this. No magic when you feel fizzy. Got it?"

"Yeah." Reya said. Aru gave a sharp nod, while Haati timidly agreed.

"Fine, sure." Sooru said cockily, leaning against the mud-brick wall. A muscle in Rabiyu's cheek twitched as she regarded her most disobedient pupil, but she let it go with a slow breath. She rolled her shoulders a bit as she stood up.

"Let's start you on your first bit of magic. All Gerudo with some magical aptitude will never get lost on the way to a known location. Look at the gate. Concentrate on that cold, calm feeling, letting it flow through your veins. Remember what that gate looks like, how the wood is a little cracked, the paint faded from the sun, how it hangs from its hinges. Close your eyes, thinking of the gate, and put a little of that cold magic into the image in your mind. Have you done it, everyone?" A chorus of agreement from the girls. Link stayed silent. "Reya, come here, I'm going to spin you. Thank you. Now, close your eyes." As Reya obeyed, Rabiyu spun her around several times one way, then changed directions, until the young girl was disoriented. "Keep your eyes closed, Reya, and point in the direction of the gate." Without pause, Reya pointed directly at the gate, which stood behind her. "Does anyone else want to try?" Sooru and Aru clamored to try, while Haati declined. Link watched quietly, feeling left out.

"Can I sit next to you, Link?" Haati asked in her soft breathy voice, bronze skin dark with a blush.

"Sure." He said, shrugging. Haati sat down. She was so… wimpy. So unlike most strong, independent Gerudo women. She lagged behind in training, both physical and mental. The only thing she was good at was art, and even then she wasn't very confident about it. Link felt no need to brush her off or inform her of her weaknesses – it was painfully obvious she was already well aware of their existence. Letting Haati know what he really thought of her would be cruel, even if she had crush on him and all he wanted her to do was leave him alone – and stop looking at him like he'd hung the moons in the sky. If he had to like a girl like that, he would pick Aru. Reya was nicer, but she was practically his sister. Aru was far more interesting than Haati, with her sharp tongue, awesome fighting skills, and bright red eyes. She was funny, she was smart, she was strong, and she kept him from acting stupid, sometimes.

"Stop daydreaming, you lump." Aru's voice was dry but amused. Link grinned up at her as she gave him a hand up and pulled him to his feet.

"Thank you, Aru." Rabiyu said with a smirk, then clapped her hands together, startling the five trainees. "Time for everyone to get up. We have a bit of a journey for this next part. I'm going to show the way to an oasis – so you'll be able to find it the next time you're in the Wasteland. You all have the food and water I asked you to pack?" One by one the children all nodded. "Good. Let's head out, then. But before that, Link. Come here." When Link was at her side she handed him something heavy and round. It was a compass, just a little too big for his hand, outer case colored a deep cobalt, the face silver, the arrow's bisected ends painted alternately red and yellow. "Gerudos are never lost." Rabiyu told him seriously, "Just because you weren't _born_ Gerudo doesn't mean you have to be lost."

"Thank you," Link whispered, looking at the compass. It was one of the nicest gifts he'd ever gotten. Rabiyu ruffled his dyed-red hair affectionately, to his token protest.

"Now pay attention, my lad, and you might learn how to get from the gate to the oasis on your first trip." Link nodded eagerly, pocketing the compass, the instrument a comforting weight on his hip. "Trainees? Move out."

After perhaps an hour's travel, sand dunes gave way to parched, cracked earth scattered with scrub vegetation, and finally to thick fauna and hard soil, a pool of muddy water shimmering in the middle of the green oasis. Link had paid careful attention to his compass as they hiked.

Rabiyu let the children take off their tack and go skinny-dipping to wash away both the sweat from the glaring sun and the powdery sand that clung to their skin uncomfortably.

After perhaps twenty minutes of play, they returned to shore dripping wet, to pull out canteens of water or tea and eat packed meals of nuts, dried fruit, and sandwiches. The sandwiches were made of pita, cold chicken, cheese, bits of tomato and spread with sour cream. The cooks had prepared the meals for the children in advance, wrapping the portions in cloth napkins and packing the filled cloths in sealed tin boxes to keep the all-invasive sand out.

Rabiyu, Link, and the girls ate happily in the shade of several palm trees and an unripe lemon tree, discussing the latest gossip of the Fortress.

Once they finished eating, Rabiyu resumed the lesson. She plucked a twig from the lemon tree, and snapped it in two, and showed the children the two pieces. Then she snapped off another twig, muttered a few words over it, and let the children try to snap it. The magicked twig would not even bend – it was hard and rigid.

"That was a strengthening charm for wood." Rabiyu explained, taking the twig from Haati. "It's used on our gates, in construction, and other purposes. We don't use it on arrow shafts, as sometimes they need to be snapped quickly in the case of friendly fire or other accidents, but if you need to make arrows in a pinch, you can use the charm on the tip of a stick to make a quick arrow. Granted, it won't work as well as steel heads, but that's magic for you – quick fixes will never work as well as magic that takes time to settle. There's a reason for that – magic is strongest once it settles. Layered spells are even stronger. This principle applies across race lines. It works this way for Hylians, Gorons, Sheikah, Zora, and Gerudo alike."

Next she showed them how to purify impure water, filling her canteen with water from the muddy oasis. She murmured an incantation, speaking clearly for the girls to hear, fingers tracing invisible curves in the air. Finally, she wiped the back of her hand over the mouth of the canteen, palm upturned. When she pulled her hand away from the tin bottle, her palm was full of mud and sand. She wiped her hand off on a verdant bush and passed the bottle around the five students. Link took a cautious sip. The water was lukewarm, but pure. He handed the canteen to Reya to try, who passed the container back to their teacher.

She uttered another incantation, a short one of only three words, at the bottle, and passed it around once more.

"That was one of the most common spells we Gerudo use. It's a cooling spell. As our magic naturally is on the cold side, this magical working is very easy, and simple to use. Now repeat after me…" Rabiyu ran the girls through five repeats of the chant, until they could successfully reproduce the spell on their own canteens. Link looked on glumly, and Reya thoughtfully spelled his water cold as well.

Their teacher showed them how to make a small flame with a little magic and a snap of her fingers. It danced brightly on her index finger for a few seconds before flickering out.

Finally, she finished off her magic display by picking up a smallish rock and making the mica in it flash a rainbow of colors in the shade. Link and the girls admired it, finally allowing Reya to tuck it into her pack after a brief but intense discussion of who would keep it. Link liked sparkly things just as much as the next Gerudo, but lately he'd been trying a new concept his mother had introduced – chivalry. As far as Link could understand it, men were created to take care of women and give them children. Since women gave life, men were to treat a woman's needs as more important than his own. Link was not exactly keen on having to put all girls before his desires, as that meant he had to be chivalrous to _everyone in the Fortress_. Well, except King Ganondorf – who had to be treated politely not just because one was supposed to, but also because the man's presence and dignity _demanded_ it. And anyway, the King had to look after everyone in the Fortress. It was hard, being both Gerudo and a boy. But Link reckoned it was much better than being Hylian.

"If that rock was completely crystal, I could make it glow and give off light." Rabiyu said of the rock she'd charmed, wiping her hands off on her pantaloons. "And if you have volcanic rock, there's a spell that makes it hold heat for a long time. And that's about all I've planned to show you. Everyone have a good drink, refill your canteens if you need to – and use the purifying trick I showed you – and pack up your things. We leave in..." She looked up at the sun, eying its position. "…Ten minutes. Swiftly, children."

The five trainees hurried to obey.

When the ten minutes were up, Rabiyu rose to her feet.

"All right. Girls, you may take the lead and show us the way back." Aru nodded, taking her position in front, Reya and Sooru jostling for second place. Haati scurried behind them obediently after Rabiyu refused to let her walk in last place. Once the girls settled on a group formation, Link and Rabiyu trailed after them, the woman quietly pointing out landmarks for Link to remember.

The return trip took longer with the less-experienced girls leading, perhaps an hour and a half from the Oasis back to the Rear Gate of the Fortress. By the time they returned it was nearly twelve, four hours before noon. Their teacher dismissed the girls, sending them off to do stamina exercises in the evening, when it was cooler out than it was under the hot, afternoon summer sun.

"Come with me Link." Rabiyu said to the boy with a tug on his tunic sleeve. "Time for your own testing." He shrugged.

"All right, Rabiyu." They waved to the girls, who were heading towards the more residential area of the Fortress, and made for the palace, slipping in through one of the many back doors.

Where a Hylian palace was strictly a residence, as opposed to the Castle in the Hyrule Capitol, the Palace in the Gerudo Fortress served as both the royal residence and the administrative center of the small city. Five hundred years ago, when the freshly widowed Gerudo women carved their first homes out of the valley rock, the Fortress had started in what was now the mostly residential area of the Fortress – mostly apartment complexes but for a few compact villas for the well-to-do and old money. The residential area had an ancient stone wall around it – the old limits of the Fortress. The population had boomed two hundred years ago, when Gerudo magic had been refined enough to develop fertility charms and spells to detect where a woman was in her ovulation cycle. It was traditional for a woman to have at least one child and thus maintain the bloodline and general Gerudo population, but the new spells had made it easier to give birth to two daughters with less encounters with Hylian men. The walls of the Fortress had been rebuilt, with a very generous amount of room for the refuge to grow and expand, the walls taller, thicker, and spelled for protection and stability. The palace was almost as old as the original walled-in Fortress, as its construction had began with the coronation of the return of the Gerudo Kings – who had been born four-hundred and fifty-seven years ago – the only male Gerudo of his generation.

Rabiyu led Link through the maze of back corridors designed for those who worked behind-the-scenes – Hylians might call them servants, Gerudos called them custodians, or at the very least, maids.

Through the narrow halls, up a wide sandstone staircase – made of the same gold sandstone as the rest of the palace – down a wide hall with a mosaic-tiled floor and into one of the finer workrooms in the floor of the King's residence. Resting on one of the stone counters was an elaborate device, large and boxy, all iron framework, wood paneling, and colored glass. Cheap, poor quality glass, Link noted, not of Gerudo make.

"What is it?" Link wondered, manfully resisting the urge to give the contraption a good prod. He might break it, after all – for all the thing's size, it looked breakable. "It's really, _really_ugly."

"That, my boy, is a Hylian magic detector. It will divine what kind of Hylian magic your nature is attuned to."

"Does it need to be so big?" It did take up much of the counter. "Or so ugly?" Rabiyu hastily turned her laughter into a more restrained fit of coughing. Link absently reached up to pound her on the back until she got herself under control.

"Thank you Link. Hylians have a tendency to over-complicate things, even Ferrick Rauros."

"Oh. He's your lover, right?"

"Yeah. More to the point, however - I just need a little blood from you and a few hours to determine what kind of magic you have."

"Hylians have different types of magic? And why blood?"

"Blood is the key to almost every kind of Hylian magic, so you'd best get used to it. As for the different kinds of Hylian magic, that requires a little more explanation. You see, while a Gerudo's power comes from the sun, the Hylian's power comes from the land. All of Hyrule is shot through with the power that keeps the land isolated from the rest of the world. It was Hylians that locked Hyrule away from the world, and its that same power they draw from the land. There are two kinds of magic in the land, light and dark magic. Both must exist to maintain balance, and neither are evil, despite what the Hylians claim about dark magic. Hylians typically only have an affinity for one kind of magic – the rarer magics can only be used by those who can balance light and dark together. Both dark and light magic users' affinities are split even further into different natures. Light users take from what is visible, splitting into the natures of wood, open plain, water, fire, and rock – and pure light, which is what Ferrick uses. Light magic is nature magic, from without. Dark magic comes from within. Dark magic users take from the unseen, through the use of darkness they create illusions, alter the world with alchemy, and use nature manipulation, entropy and origin magic. The only ability forbidden is the art of necromancy, which is heavy, nasty stuff. Most Hylians believe dark magic is evil, even though it is quietly but broadly used. So those are what you might be able to use. This device itself was created through the principles of Hylian alchemy."

"Huh. Neat." Was all Link said, a little overwhelmed by all the information his mentor had provided. Rabiyu reached up and pressed a brass button, causing a little wooden drawer to pop out of the mahogany paneling. She pulled a flat glass circle from the drawer, setting it on the counter and pulling out an ornately carved dagger from a compartment in the device.

"Hold out your left hand, I need to draw a little blood." Link obeyed, and Rabiyu gently sliced a shallow cut across the boy's palm, smearing the blood onto the glass circle. She laid a piece of paper cut to fit the glass circle over the bloody glass, the blood quickly soaking into the golden paper. Then she replaced the circle back into the drawer, but left the wooden tray open. The princess removed two slender vials from the Hylian magic-detecting contraption, one full of a clear lilac-hued liquid, the other containing a small amount of fine, grey powder. She carefully dusted the powder onto the bloody paper, then dribbled the lilac fluid onto the powder, finally covering the mix with a second piece of paper and closing the drawer. She turned a few brass dials, twisted and touched several colored glass controls, and covered the device with a canvas cover. The magical apparatus began to emit a high, musical whine, occasionally interrupted by a sharp squeaking noise.

"As I said. Hylians definitely overcomplicate things." Link nodded, eyes wide.

Rabiyu carefully washed her hands with the ewer and basin at the end of the work counter before anointing Link's cut palm with ointment and then wrapping it tightly with gauze.

"There," She said, looking pleased. "That's you done. We should have a result in five hours. Dinner is at eight. Shall we meet at seven to go over the results?" Link bobbed his head.

"Sure, Rabiyu."

"See you then, squirt." Rabiyu ruffled his hair playfully before shooing him out of the workshop.

Link trotted out of the palace, ready to find Reya and his agemates and find out if there really was treasure behind the waterfall.

**Chapter Ten: Of Follies**

"You shouldn't be doing this." Aru insisted, glaring at Sooru as Link and Reya crunched their way down the gravel path leading down the cliff to the Zora River. "You shouldn't be letting them do it." Sooru just folded her arms smugly. Haati had elected to stay behind and work on her weapons forms. Aru didn't think it would help much – but had to commend the shy girl for her effort, at least.

"What?" Sooru said, "It's not like they don't want to do it. I'm not forcing them." Aru scowled, red eyes hard.

"You dared them." She said, pointing an accusatory finger. "They think they have to, and they wouldn't listen to me. I only came because I thought we were going to swim. You made it a matter of honor for Link – and you know he feels he has to prove himself to us because he's a Hylian. And Reya is practically attached at the hip to him, of course she's watching after him."

"What, you think you know him better than I do? I grew up with him!" Sooru sneered, "I don't know who you think you are, coming in and taking over everything like you did a year ago-"

"Are you off your head? I didn't choose to be put under Rabiyu, it just happened!"

"—A year ago, taking Link away from Haati like you did, you slut. She always tries so hard to impress him and gets nowhere – she's pretty and kind and gentle. You treat him like dirt and he loves you!" Aru's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"He knows I don't – he's not. He's not dirt." She managed, shocked.

"Well I've got your number, Aru. Doubly cursed, you are. Bad enough your sire was a Sheikah, but you had to be rape-get too." Sooru spat at Aru's feet. "That's why you fight so well – you move like those dogs do, like a Sheikah bitch! Your mother was right to throw you away."

Aru's face twisted in fury, and then she reared back and punched Sooru square in the mouth with all the considerable strength of a young woman born to fight. The younger girl staggered backwards, and spat again, blood in her spittle.

"Damn you, Sooru." Aru hissed, Sheikah-red eyes blazing, trembling with fury. "I'm telling. And I'm getting an adult before this gets too out of hand." She threw down her practice weapons and ran back the way the children had come.

"It's not like you're going to get back in time to stop them, oh great prodigy!" Sooru yelled after her, "It's forty-five minutes to the Fortress!"

"Your mother would be ashamed of you, Sooru!" Came the distant, fast-fading reply.

Sooru snorted, and wiped blood off her mouth.

"So we got behind the waterfall." Reya said, absently kicking her heels against the rock ledge they were perched on.

"Yeah." Link said, grinning at her. "Looks pretty cool, huh?"

"I guess." She allowed, wiping mist off her face. Looking through the massive amounts of clear water tumbling past, sunlight shining through, was indeed an impressive sight. "We should go back now."

"And almost fall into the river again, and be washed all the way to Lake Hylia? No thanks."

"That's a lot of river, Link. Lots of rapids. We'd probably be dead before we reached the lake."

"Thank you for that image, dearest cousin. All the more reason to check the cave out – see if there really is a treasure." Reya rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself, shaking her head at him.

"Bet you two days chores someone's already been here and taken it." She challenged with a smirk.

"You're on." He easily agreed. "Now c'mon, lets see how deep the cave goes." Link hauled himself to his feet on the mist-drenched, slippery rock and gave Reya a hand up. He pulled a small, rectangular crystal out of his trouser's pocket, kissed it absently to activate it and make the crystal glow with a magic-produced light.

The white light reflected off the damp, smooth walls of the tunnel, the noise of their footsteps echoing through the cave increased in volume the further the pair got from the roar of the falls. Reya and Link inched their way around a deep pit carefully. Further on, a soft _drip drip drip_ sounded from a branching passage too narrow to explore. As they walked, the tunnel began to slope downwards. A thin sheet of water ran down the incline, making footing even more treacherous than it had been.

At last, the passage opened into a wide, vaguely round chamber, stalactites and columns dripping down from the ceiling. In the center of the room sat a large wooden chest.

"I told you!" Link said triumphantly, grinning at his cousin, who merely sighed and looked resigned towards two extra days of chores. "Sooru was right, there was treasure."

"Yes, because _everyone_ likes Sooru, Link." Link snorted at that.

"Well I don't." He retorted and strode over to the chest, crouching to examine the lock on the chest. Link shoved both hands into his pockets, searching but coming up empty. "Reya. Do you have your pick set on you?"

"Yeah." The girl said absently, carding her fingers through short, spiky hair she'd had cut to look like her step-mother Dinah's style. Then she frowned thoughtfully, lips drooping. "Why don't you have yours? Rabiyu said we're supposed to have them on us all day." Link shrugged.

"I thought there wouldn't be anything behind the waterfall, so why get the set wet and have to oil it again to keep out rust?" He said, trying to sound reasonable, then added insolently, "And anyway, it's not like we'd have to use them in any part of the Fortress besides the training grounds. We hardly have any locks in the whole Fortress - what's the point of having them when everybody in the city knows how to pick them? Anything that really needs a lock is locked magically."

"That's not the point." Reya replied with a little exasperation. "We're supposed to have them with us. You can't just break rules because they make no sense."

"So what, are you going to tell on me? C'mon, Reya, get over it. Can I borrow your set of picks?"

"No. I'll do it myself. I need the practice, anyway." She nudged him with her foot, and he moved aside with a grumble. Reya pulled out the slim, cloth-wrapped bundle that was her lock pick set, carefully unrolling it and selecting a torsion wrench, its narrow head shaped like an 'L'. She slipped it in, and began her task. Link helped by handing her the tools she requested, first several half-diamond picks, then a hook pick. After perhaps ten minutes of careful, dexterous experimentation, she sat back on her heels with a sigh. "It's no good – the thing is rusted shut." Link helped her repack her toolset and then eyed the locked chest once more.

"I wonder…" He prodded the lock, thinking hard, and brought the light crystal close for a better look at the rusted lock. The boy grinned as he came to a conclusion. "Good for us that its a padlock, I s'pose." Link got up and walked around the room, examining the stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

"Now what are you-" She began impatiently.

"Shh." He interrupted, "I'm thinking." At last he selected a fairly thick formation and snapped a large chuck of it off. He snapped the sharp point of the tip off, and flipped it over in his hands so the wider end pointed at the floor. Now suitably equipped, he brought the stalactite around in a wide arc, smashing into the rusty iron padlock. It made a complaining shriek, limestone falling off in chips at the impact. Link struck the lock again. And again. With each hit, rust and stone flakes fell to the floor, until finally, the padlock's shackle gave with a snap, falling to the cave floor. Link kicked the wrecked thing to the side.

Breath held in anticipation, Link and Reya knelt before the chest and as one, they opened the lid. Something large and round was covered by a moldy silk cloth – Link reached in and pulled the silken cover off, tucking it into his pocket.

Underneath the cloth was a yellowed skull.

Link hissed under his breath. Reya's hazel eyes were wide.

"Oh. No." Later, the two children could not remember who said those words, only that they had been spoken, spoken slowly and doomed, and that it was those words that seemed to wake the monstrous thing.

The skull's eyes opened, a glowing blue-white that was bright and cold.

Some invisible force caused the skull to rise until it was at eye-level, where it hovered, bobbing from some kind of strange breeze that could not be felt or seen but was nonetheless there. Its jaw opened, letting loose a shrill, rasping shriek that made the children's hair to stand on end. The cry echoed through the cave, causing the more delicate stalactites to fall and smash to the floor. As the two children cringed from the stony shrapnel, a section of what they had thought was just cave wall moved aside with a rumble.

Three large creatures leaped out of the dark maw of the revealed door, reptilian and each as large as a full grown woman. Two were slender, each carrying a long, thin rapier. The other was massive, thickly and brutishly muscled, its skull covered in silver armor, a long knife clutched in each claw.

Link pushed Reya behind him, trying to push her to the passage through which they'd entered the room. But one of the monsters was too close, and quickly cut off their escape with a few steps and a threatening brandishing of its sword.

"Link!" Reya shouted, shoving him towards the void the lizard creatures had come from. They scrambled up onto the raised floor of the new room, running for a small tunnel small enough for children but not the monsters behind them. It was blocked by several columns and fat stalactites and stalagmites that almost connected. The three lizards shrieked, two shrill and throaty, the larger one a deep bass roar – and chased after them. Link dropped his light stone as he and Reya made for the relative safety of the new, narrower passage. Vision skewed, a disorienting slide into darkness edged in light. With visibility shot, Link tripped right into a slick stalagmite, slipping and toppling over to land flat on his back, his breath rushing out of his lungs in a pained _whuff_.

Used to the darkness, one of the leaner abominations bounded over to his raising its blade. Link heard the whistle of ragged steel through damp air, and rolled away before it could stab him. The thing tried again, and Link squirmed away. A second try caught its blade firmly into a stony column, and would not come out despite urgent tugging from powerful scaly arms. It ducked its head as if to bite the boy, but Link drew his leg (bloodied from scrambling around sharp stone) and kicked the lizard in the head with all his strength. More specifically, with a sandaled heel right in the monster's eye socket. It recoiled with a yell of outrage. As it clawed at its eye, the other two creatures clamored to get around their injured fellow, who blocked the way to the two children. Link seized the chance to crawl to relative safety, where Reya was wedged as far into the narrow fissure as she could manage. He slipped through the slight gap between two large columns, safe for now.

A sort of haze came over Link – he could hear the lizard creatures shrieking and hammering away at the cave formations that were keeping him and Reya safe – but he couldn't quite focus on it. Objectively, he knew he was slipping into shock, as Rabiyu had called it. Numbly, he scooted closer to Reya, who shook her head frantically, eyes wide and pupils dilated in the treacherous light.

"No Link! Don't move!"

Too late – there was a tiny jab of pain on the back of his hand, followed by a sensation of slippery, numbing heat, growing out from the tiny sting site. Link shook his hand in reflex, and something fell into a panel of light. It was three inches long, eight legs and a long segmented tail, pale blue with delicate pincers. A Sandstalker scorpion, and it had stung him. It waved its pincers in agitation before darting back into the shadows. The sensation of dulling warmth spread with each throb of his hand, which pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

"We're hiding in a scorpion's nest." Reya cried, frozen with fright. Link grunted in pain, cradling his hand to his chest, sweat and terror on his face.

"Yeah. I noticed. I guess we can handle monsters but not bugs, huh? Typical." He said, unable to keep himself from giggling nervously. His entire arm was senseless, paralysis spreading from his right shoulder to his chest. Carefully, avoiding the scorpions skittering around in alarm, Reya pushed herself between Link and the lizard creatures still trying to get to them, wrapping herself around her cousin.

It was difficult to measure the passing of time, in the disorienting sprawl of the things visible and the things unseen, light swaying and flickering, while everything else was swallowed by the void. The disturbed scorpions crawled over human feet kept prudently still. Water dripped into Link's hair in perfect minute-long intervals. Reya's breathing came in little frightened pants against the boy's cheek, their grip on each other painfully tight but an anchor nonetheless.

Blue light flickered from the main chamber, the skull they'd found in the chest had somehow made its way to the hidden room. It bobbed and dipped in midair around the three lizards' heads, surrounded by a misty corona of cold blue light. It seemed content to watch the larger creatures' progress.

As the neurotoxins spread, Link slumped more and more against Reya for support. He wasn't sure whether it was good that the paralysis was not affecting his breathing – the monsters were not ten feet away, still relentlessly but mindlessly chipping away at the columns that were sheltering the two children away from the reach of the creatures' blades. Reya and he were going to die, Link realized. He was going to die. Either by venom or by the hands of monsters. Reya might die either way. And it was his fault. He'd taken that dare, to show Sooru up, to prove himself to her. But the adventure he'd sought had turned out to be too much for him to handle, and this would be the end of it.

"I'm sorry Reya." Link slurred, tongue clumsy, all strength fled. His body was limp and beyond his control. Reya didn't seem to hear him. He breathed in deep, resigned, and waited.

There was a terrific crash (Reya flinched under him) – the lizard monsters had broken through the columns. One of the two lean ones crawled into the narrow space and reached a wiry limb out, dragging Reya off of Link, who could only watch numbly, falling limply onto the hard limestone floor without her support.

Blood flew and the room was filled with shrieks of pain. From Reya as her left leg was stripped to the bone. From the second lean monster who'd hung back, as good curved Gerudo steel pierced through its back, through its heart and out of its chest. It twitched, gurgled, and died.

Nabooru surveyed the corpse with distaste, and pulled her blade out of the scaly carcass. Rabiyu leapt into the chamber to do battle with the burly brute of a lizard, twin scimitars ready. The pair faced off, and the glowing skull careened into her chest, light sinking into her skin. She staggered, grace gone, and the huge monster leaned down low to breathe a gout of flame out of its gaping mouth. Her silk slippers caught fire, burning bright, and she rolled out of the way of her opponent's daggers. Nabooru threw something bright at the flying skull, which exploded into bone fragments.

Rabiyu sprang to her feet and staggered, cursing. Her feet were badly burned, but she circled the bigger creature as Nabooru drew the last lean one's attention away from a badly bleeding Reya who was whimpering on the cave floor clutching the remains of her leg. Rabiyu's monster charged her. The princess managed to sidestep out of its path, and it slammed into the cave wall, stunned for only a moment. But that small opening was enough for her – she deftly sliced the tendons on the backs of its legs, dodged a second blast of fire as it turned to face her, and ran the monster through. Dying, it reached for her with its long daggers, and she buried her second sword into it. At last life left its body, slumping over and knocking the princess to the floor. She grimaced, kicking the heavy corpse off her with some effort. Rabiyu winced as she regained her feet, and wiped at the dark blood on her clothes. Across the room Nabooru had killed the last lizard with a bolt of magic that had incinerated the body and charred it to a crisp.

Nabooru scooped up Link's dropped light stone and examined Reya's leg, making a _tsk_ noise with her tongue when she saw the damage. She pulled off her blouse, ripping the linen into bandages with a knife. The Gerudo Queen murmured a cleaning spell over the mutilated leg, which made Reya burst into fresh tears at the pain. Once the wounds were clean Nabooru cast a healing spell, making the blood clot and thick ropey scabs to appear, wrapping the leg with her impromptu bandages.

"You'll need to see a healer once we get back to the Fortress, sweetheart." She said to her niece.

"Link got hurt too," The girl whispered, pointing to the space they'd hid in. "Scorpion sting – a sandstalker." Nabooru's bronze face went quite pale, horror in her warm eyes.

"Din be-damn it," Rabiyu cursed, picking up the light stone. "I'll get him, Nabooru. You watch Reya." Nabooru nodded shakily, suddenly a mother rather than a fighter. That said, Rabiyu crawled into the small fissure. She murmured a short spell, concentrating hard through her pain, and the scorpions calmly returned to their dark holes. She wriggled into the narrow space, grabbing Link's ankle and gently pulling him towards her. She caught him around the waist when he was near enough, dragging him free and frantically checking him over. "Nabooru."

"Yes?"

"His breathing seems fine. Do you know any spells for poison or venom? You know I'm not good with magic beyond the basics."

"No. I don't, or I can't recall. We'd best ride hard, if its so." The Queen said grimly, and Rabiyu nodded, eyes frightened and looking very young.

"Let's get out of here, my lady."

The next hour was a bit of a blur to Link, when he tried to remember what had happened after the rescue. Rabiyu slung him over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, quite a thing when he was more than half her weight and her feet were burned. Together the two women negotiated the long cave passage back to freedom, the light stone bobbing in the air in front of them by means of Nabooru's magic, lighting the way. At the mouth of the cave Nabooru paused to pocket the light stone, regarding the massive torrent of water tumbling down just feet away from the tunnel. Extracting one hand free of Reya, she flapped it at the waterfall, uttering a harsh word of command, and suddenly the cascade moved a little farther away from the base of the cliff, opening a safe path to the riverside. She and Rabiyu carefully picked their way across the slick stones, dropping the spell once back on shore, the Gerudo Queen slick with the sweat of exertion.

"I could never do anything like that." The younger woman commented with a grunt, heaving Link back onto her shoulder, impressed by her former mentor's feat.

"Yes, well, you are a far better warrior than I – so to each their own." Down came reinforcements - who had made their way down the precarious gravel path that led from the canyon cliff to the river's edge – to relieve the two women of their injured burdens.

Adrenaline drained out of Rabiyu, leaving her feeling clean and empty. She allowed one of the women to help her up the path, walking slowly and gingerly.

Reya and Link were each bundled onto a horse, whose riders sent them back to the Fortress at a gallop.

The children were rushed through the Fortress to the infirmary closest to the front gates. There were five infirmaries in the Fortress, one near the industry district, one by the training grounds, another in the palace, one in the mage's building, and the largest in the residential area, a proper hospital. It was to the last one that Link and Reya were taken to.

Reya was carried to the surgery room, while Link was taken to a quiet, dim room and set down on a cot, the linen sheets clean and undyed. He was fed an antidote for scorpion venom, and then a potion the healer informed him was called Snake's Boon – a infusion used to remove toxins from poisoned flesh.

The effects were immediate – he regained sensation in his body, beginning in his stomach, spreading and tingling all the way to his extremities. His cuts were easily cleaned and healed, leaving fresh pink skin. The dehydration was just as easily taken care of. At last the healer deemed him suitably healthy, and gave him a mug of tea spiked with some bitter herb that made his eyelids droop. Warm, comforting darkness awaited, so unlike the cold void of the cave.

Link only had the time to wonder how Reya was doing before sleep claimed his mind.

**Chapter Eleven: Of Consequences**

It was the bright, warm sunlight on his face that woke Link. He cracked open one eye, slowly and warily, then the other, letting blurry eyes focus slowly. In the bright light he relaxed, faintly remembering dreams of a dark void that had swallowed him whole, leaving him slowly digested, alive, in the belly of the beast.

This was not his brightly appointed room in his family's apartment, with its wall hangings, stacks of books and thick sleep mat. He was in the Fortress hospital, on a thin mat rolled out on a raised platform, lumpy pillow cushioning his head. The walls and floor were white-washed, probably with a lime solution.

His mother sat in a sturdy but comfortable chair at the bedside, her graceful neck bent over a packet of papers and documents, pen moving carefully. It was probably work – no one had ever talked about the amount of work royalty had to do, but it was done nonetheless.

"Mum," He said, pleased to find his voice was steady, his tongue no longer clumsy from scorpion venom. Her head snapped up, tired smile sliding warm over her lips.

"Hey, sweetheart." Nabooru said, eyes soft. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good."

"How is Reya, Mum?" He asked anxiously, and his mother's smile faded.

"She…" She swallowed, eyes closing for a shuddering moment. "They had to amputate her leg about six inches below her knee."

The realization hit him hard, leaving sick nausea in his gut. For a second he thought he might vomit, and then the feeling passed.

"Mum. I need… I need to be alone right now." He said hoarsely, tears welling up. Nabooru nodded, and left the room, taking her papers with her.

He waited several minutes to make sure he was alone before crying himself sick.

His mother came back later to take him to see Reya, who was still recovering from blood loss and her surgery. She smiled when she saw him. There was a multitude of gifts from well-wishers on the sturdy bedside table, paper flowers, a beautiful doll, and a brightly colored glass trinket box that Dinah had probably made herself. Deste, Reya's favorite stuffed horse, rested in her arms.

"The doctors say I'll still be able to ride horses, when I'm better and my stump has healed." She said, her faint smile crooked. Link clenched his fists so hard his nails draw blood from his palms.

"It's my fault." He whispered furiously, blinking back more tears. "I never should've taken that dare from Sooru." Sooru had quit training when she's heard what had happened. She hadn't known about the monsters. Too late. Far too late. Reya winced, and tried in a shaky smile.

"I don't blame you Link." She said quietly, "I chose to go too. It's not your fault."

But it was. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

It had been two weeks since Link took that dare, and Haati was still not sure how everything had fallen apart around her.

Clever Reya was crippled. She would return to the intellectual training when her leg had healed enough, but would never fight again.

Sooru, her best friend, had quit training before she was expelled. No one would trust her for a long time – unaware of the monsters or not, the dare had been dangerous, and had nearly killed one of the King's daughters and the son of the Queen. There was a woman who had offered to apprentice the fallen girl, so Sooru was going to be a mathematician, which was the only field she'd bested the other children at.

Aru was suddenly treating her different, acting too nice. Haati was sure she didn't deserve it.

And Link… Link was the most changed of them all. He didn't smile. He didn't joke. He showed up in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. He began to put more energy into physical training and less in that of the intellectual, though he still did well. Link started staying late at the Gerudo training ground, practicing until Aru ground him into the dirt, and did not complain when she did.

And as for Haati herself, she just kept falling further and further behind her friends. Maybe she should quit training like Sooru, and find an apprenticeship in the arts. Maybe she should give Link a hug the next time she saw him. Maybe she should try to cheer Sooru up. Maybe she could get her mother to smile with approval at her.

Maybe.

It was the maybes that haunted Haati. She never acted on them.

It was mid-afternoon, the sun hot overhead.

"I hear you're avoiding everyone." Rabiyu said, limping up to Link, who was practicing his bare-handed combat forms against a padded target. "Everyone but Aru, for training. And visiting Reya in the hospital, for guilt. I know what you're doing, lad. You're going to drive yourself insane with guilt." Link didn't respond. "I know what you're going through."

"No. Rabiyu, you don't." He said stonily. The woman sighed, tucking a copper braid behind her ear.

"Stop your training. We need to sit down and chat."

"Fine." He stepped away from the target reluctantly, and together the teacher and student walked over to one of the benches for observers, which was shoved up against the fortress wall. Link gestured to the seat, the move gallant but his heart not really in it. Rabiyu sat down carefully, drawing her muscular legs up onto the seat, taking weight off the burnt soles of her feet. Link threw himself onto the bench.

"When I was eight, I had a best friend by the name of Para." Rabiyu began, eyes focused on something in the distance. "We were inseparable, very like you and your cousin. She twisted her ankle, one day. I was supposed to help her up the stairs to her apartment every day after training, but she assured me she could handle the stairs just fine, even though there was no rail. I was hungry that day, so I let her go by herself, and headed to dinner early. I found out the next day she'd fallen down the stairs, not long after I'd left, broken her neck, and died. I didn't take it well. It took me a long time to get over it." Link glanced over at his mentor. Her amber eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I blamed myself for years. It was my fault for leaving Para alone, and not taking care of her like I was told to. But it was also her fault. She shouldn't have sent me away – those stairs were steep, and there was no rail to use for support. It was foolish of her. No one has a monopoly on guilt." She scrubbed calloused hands over her face, composing herself. "So you see, I do know what you're going through. I know you feel shame and guilt. But Link, _nobody died_.

"Reya will never fight again, but she'll be able to walk after a fashion. She'll still be able to ride. She chose to go with you. And Reya is blaming herself, because of how you took her injury, but you might have died if she wasn't there. Aru is blaming herself for not stopping you two when she had the chance, but you didn't listen to her warnings, and things could have gone much, much worse if she hadn't run for help. Haati is blaming herself – of all things - for not being there to stop you, but I doubt you would have listened to her. And Sooru is blaming herself for putting you up to the dare. Her career as a leader is over, but she's shown poor judgment before, she would not have made a good leader in the long run. And she didn't know about the monsters. No one can take the burden of fault alone, except of course the damn women who did not dismantle the traps in the that cave behind the waterfall, a century ago. It was an early precursor to our Gauntlet. We thought they'd disarmed it – but they didn't. They are dead, though, and past our reproach.

"I'm not saying you're free of blame. But you can't say it's all your fault. Did you learn anything from this?"

"Take a weapon with you." Link said carefully, thinking. "Be more cautious. Don't go on adventures."

"Well… I guess." The woman allowed, "Caution is a good thing. Don't be reckless. But a little adventure is good. We shouldn't be scared of everything, but a person needs to be sensible. How about checking with an adult before you try something a little dangerous. You've already done that. Like having me spot you when you were learning back flips, or when you wanted to balance knives on your nose. It was ridiculous, yes, but I watched you so you wouldn't get hurt." The boy looked vaguely pleased.

"Even Aru can't do that."

"What, the dagger on the nose trick? She doesn't like to show off, but she probably could." Rabiyu flapped her hand at Link. "Anyway, back to the point. I got the results back on your magical type. It's a rare one. You're almost completely balanced, just a tad to the side of dark magic. You'll be able to do magic through music."

Link perked at that. Music?

"I can do magic with my ocarina?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes. We'd wondered - me, your mother and my father - about why you were able to play like a virtuoso when you were three. Of course you have talent, but the magic part certainly explains things." The Hylian boy thought this over.

It did explain a lot, about Sariya, and why he sometimes fancied he could hear faint music playing around certain people or places. That was why he could hear a song once and play it back perfectly forever after. It was why he knew exactly which song to play to cheer his mother up, or to soothe his family to sleep in the night. How had he not realized normal children couldn't talk to strange girls tucked leagues away in mysterious, enchanted forests?

"You remember Sariya?" He finally asked his mentor. Rabiyu's eyes were warm with amusement.

"I do. She was your imaginary friend when you were younger."

"She's real."

"Is she now?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow. Link nodded.

"From the Lost Woods. She's Kokiri." A light seemed to turn on in the Gerudo princess's eyes.

"One of the forest-children." She sat back in awe. "From where your mother found you."

"Yeah. My ocarina came from there."

"That's… fascinating, actually. I'll have to tell Ferrick." Her smile turned inward, amber eyes glowing with a happy secret. "I'm going to see him in a week." Link frowned.

"So soon? C'mon, Rabiyu, you saw him two weeks ago. Don't you usually visit Parchen every month or more?"

"Typically," She said, smile widening. "But this time is different. I'll tell you why when I come back, lad. Ferrick should know first."

"Okay." He shrugged. "Can I train again?"

"Go ahead." She shooed him back to the targets, and left the training grounds, slowly.

"So when were you going to tell me?" Ganondorf asked his daughter, as she braided her hair for the night, a strange Hylian custom she'd picked up from her lover. She looked up from her bed, feet smeared in burn balm and wrapped in linen gauze.

"After I visit Parchen tomorrow." Ganondorf sighed, sitting on the straw mattress beside his favored daughter.

"You were going to make me wait a week while you were in that Hylian town to tell me I'm going to be a grandfather?"

"I'm not going to say them. The words." She said, shaking her head stubbornly. "Even if you know already, Ferrick is going to be the first to hear me say it."

"And why?" The King said sharply, "Since when does a Hylian man need to know about the Gerudo daughters he's sired? When would he even care?"

"He's not like that. We've been seeing each other for four years and -"

"How can you trust he's been true? Most Hylian noblemen have arranged marriages. You might be his mistress, not his lover. He could be married and lying through his teeth." Rabiyu laughed, eyes hard.

"He's a terrible liar. And awkward. He may be nothing but bone, stringy sinew and far too much brain, but he's mine. I know that much."

"Do you love him?" The man asked, golden eyes fierce. Rabiyu held his gaze, saying nothing, but she tilted her head up, response in her eyes.

"You do." Ganondorf said, answering himself. "Does he love you?"

"He's never told me. Not aloud." Rabiyu's tone was wry. "Hylian men don't say such things. They think it's unmanly. And he so desperately wants to be thought a man."

"Unmanly? It's unnatural, denying love." Ganondorf condemned. "When was reason ever more important than the heart, rather than equal to it? Yet another reason to hate the Hylians. I feel sorry for their women."

"I'm going to meet Ferrick tomorrow, Father." Rabiyu finally said firmly, looking her parent in the eyes. "I'm an adult, and it's my decision to make. I suppose you could order me not to but-"

"I won't take that liberty." The king snapped, furious, brow prematurely lined "I have some morals! Go if you feel you must. But take a guard with you - your burns have not healed yet."

"Fine. Goodnight, Father." She inclined her head in submission.

"Goodnight, Rabiyu." He kissed her on the cheek, brusquely, and stormed out of the room. The door closed with a very final click.

Link dreamt.

_Dark, all black. He couldn't see anything. Tiny insects were crawling over him, their joints went_click click click - _no, not insects they were hands, nothing more than bones, ivory clicking as they clawed at him. He curled up tight in a ball, arms over his head, but the hands peeled his limbs away. They clawed at his lips, and then his mouth was forced open and scorpions crawled down his throat in a wave. He screamed, but they didn't like that so then they_

His eyes opened.

Dark. Not the void he'd dreamed of, not the blackness of the cave never touched by sunlight. The faint darkness of night.

He was awake. Just a dream, for all it had seemed so real.

The combined light of the moons and stars shone through the window. Luna hung fat and full in the sky, reflecting off the sand and stucco. The blue light of egg-shaped Seles was fainter.

Quiet. No clicking. No insects. Just the endless nightly wind and the subtle breathing of his family – his mother and Reya, each in their own room, Aunties Aya and Dinah in their shared room. Link reached for the light stone that had seen him through the ordeal in the cave behind the waterfall. He slept with it now, to chase away dreams of the blackness of the cave.

He stretched, then sat up on the bed roll, folding his blankets back carefully. He padded into the main living room, where a large urn and washing cloth sat in the alcove just off the apartment entrance. Gerudo apartments did not have bathrooms – baths were taken at the Bathing Falls, and privies were communal for each floor. Link stripped off his loose sleep clothes in front of the urn, wetting the washing cloth with water and wiping off the terror-sweat. Clean, he stood shivering in the cold desert night until he was dry. Then he pulled his clothes back on and headed back to bed, taking his light stone with him.

He got comfortable under the covers, and placed the light stone next to his pillow, finally closing his eyes.

Sleep was eager for him that night.

_Not dark for once, but rather, blazing bright, numbness sliding through his veins, making it impossible to move. Blood splattered his face as they killed his family before his eyes, one by one. Mum and Reya and Aya and Dinah and Rabiyu and Aru and Sooru and Haati and everyone he knew, one by one, as he watched helplessly from the burning, sand-swept ground. There was nothing he could do, and he wanted to scream, but nothing came out. And when everyone was gone, they pulled the sun out of the sky and killed it too. And there was darkness once more._

**Chapter Twelve: Of Futures**

Early that morning, before dawn, Rabiyu rose to pack for the day-long journey, hobbling around her room gingerly. Absently, she wondered if her feet would ever heal – it had been three weeks since the cave incident, and while not as raw before, they still hurt like the dickens. She often used crutches or walking sticks to get around without putting much weight on her feet, depending on the pain level each day. One of the carpenters in the industry guild had offered to create a 'wheelchair' for the princess, but Rabiyu had turned it down politely. She felt compelled to keep up muscle tone, regardless of the pain, couldn't admit to herself that she might spend the rest of her life crippled.

"Are you ready to go, my lady?" Tanya asked from the doorway. She was to accompany the princess to Parchen, as per the King's orders.

"Yes. Can you help me with my things?" The older woman nodded deferentially, gathering the packed satchel. Rabiyu yawned, then reached for her walking sticks. They made their way out of the palace and saddled up in the palace stables.

Rabiyu and Tanya rode out of the Fortress with little fanfare, waved through the front gate by a sleepy gatekeeper.

Her father did not see them off, as last night he'd locked himself in his office late into the night, working. He'd been doing that more and more lately, seeking solitude in his work. Ganondorf had never had much free time – he'd led his people as best he could, working tirelessly to improve the harsh reality of life spent in the barren wasteland, just barely scraping by. It was the reason why the women loved him so much, why they would do anything to serve him as well as he served them. Some of the previous Kings had lived indulgently, glutting themselves on what little food was in surplus, a different woman in bed every night, taking foolish risks that made their women suffer. Rabiyu's father had once told her that he'd once wished to be a simple farmer, or a gardener, rather than king. He loved working with plants, the feel of good earth in his hands, the vibrancy of tender leaves and flowers, the sturdiness of stalks and trunks. Reality had other ideas – every plant he'd ever worked with had withered before its time. He now left the public gardens to their official custodians, and spent all his energy on diplomacy to the Hylians. It was not going well.

A wasting disease that affected rye had spread throughout much of the eastern Hyrulean Plains. Hylian mages were searching for a cure, and would probably synthesize one within the year. But the year's rye harvest would be poor, the upcoming winter already predicted to be a hard one. The Hylians were too busy maintaining the status quo to expand their territory and protection to a mostly barren land and people.

Rabiyu sighed. Her father was left, metaphorically, to futilely knock on a locked and barred door, while the doorkeeper was away from their post.

After about a half-hour's ride from the Fortress, the two women reached the massive bridge that covered the span of the great canyon carved by the Zora's River. It was a marvel of Gerudo architecture, and a triumph of mathematical systems (systems now adopted by most Hylian mathematicians) devised by the Gerudo people pre-exile. It required no magic to stay up, relying instead on thick cables woven from ropes of Skulltula silk. The cables were deeply anchored into the red sandstone, the bridge hardly swaying in the brisk wind. The bridge was large, wide enough to allow two fully laden wagons to cross side-by-side. The side rails were wide and sturdy. No one would be falling off this bridge by accident.

Two paths forked off of the road leading to the bridge. One road, deeply rutted by wagon wheels, led to the gentle, rolling part of the valley where most of the Gerudo farming was done, and towards the Grand Cascade. The other headed in the opposite direction, downriver towards the fisheries near the frothing rapids that led to Lake Hylia.

Once across the bridge, the road to Hyrule widened, sinuously winding down steep rock. Browning shrubs grew in high, impossible-to-reach crevices in the sandstone cliffs, hardily resisting the harsh sun. It took a good three hours to reach the flat level of the Plains. There was a different path they could have chosen, which would have taken less time to reach the ground, but it was treacherous, narrow, and prone to minor rockslides – Rabiyu wasn't taking any chances, not in her condition.

She swung her legs as she rode. She'd packed her stirrups in the saddlebags, as she didn't feel like subjecting her burnt feet to them. Instead she let her feet dangle, holding on with the slight pressure of her strong thighs. Rabiyu was a good rider – not a natural like Reya was, but better than most – she'd worked hard to earn her skill at it. She'd made this journey so often she could now let her mind wander, hands easy on the reins since her mare knew the way just as well. Tanya followed close behind, keeping a wary eye open. Rabiyu tried to converse with her guard, but Tanya was not interested in talking, perhaps because of the differences in status. It was a shame, because Rabiyu had been looking forward to traveling with company for once.

Craggy sandstone and gravel slowly turned to parched, cracked earth, which crackled under the two horses' hooves. This was where the Wasteland gave way to Hyrule proper, and the barren land they were crossing marked the boundary between the Gerudo Desert and the steppes of the western Hyrulean Plains. The women stopped at sixteen o'clock for their noonday meal, sitting on a sun-warmed boulder. They'd packed hard cheese, dried fish, some soft rolls, and roasted nuts. They ate neatly, then packed the rest of the food into their saddlebags. The horses were given some feed from the saddlebags, as no grass was available. Finally, the princess and her guard saddled up and continued on.

It took four hours to cross the cracked soil, and then they were in the Western Province of Hyrule, which was better known as Drought Country.

Drought Country was actually more barren than the Gerudo Valley, as it was without a reliable water source – there were no offshoots of the Zora River nearby, and very little rain fell in the region. Farming crops were very scarce, just a little barley and wheat grown here, and most farms largely consisted of flourishing rabbit farms. The rabbits were harvested for their pelts, meat, and bones –mages who practiced origin or entropy magic bought the bones specifically to use in weather prediction spells or for fertility charms. Many farmers also had herds of sheep or goats, as the sandy soil was just fertile enough to support the hardy grasses that blanketed the steppes. The true money, however, was in flatland mining. Sandstone was abundant. Deposits of silicate minerals such as quartz, tourmaline, garnet, topaz, quartzite, mica, and various feldspars stippled the arid province. Most food had to be imported by the neighboring Lakeland Province, which didn't actually contain Lake Hylia - merely bordered it – as the massive lake was situated in the Province of Lake Hylia.

As one of the poorer provinces, Drought Country had only two sizable cities: Parchen and Mudwater. Both cities were originally mining towns, and located on major Plains trade routes. Mudwater was the larger of the two. Its economy depended on sandstone exports, as stone for building was always in demand, while the gemstones' demand ebbed and flowed with the prosperity of the economy. Parchen had flourished through its garnet mines, but continued to succeed chiefly by being the town nearest the Gerudo territory. It was the unofficial meeting place for the brief trysts between Gerudo women and Hylian men. Futhermore, Parchen bought Gerudo goods, transporting them to Hylian markets around the country and selling them for a higher price.

Parchen was the city where Rabiyu and Ferrick typically reunited. She'd traveled with her father to the Capital, on a diplomatic venture which had turned out to be fruitless, two years ago. Ferrick had shown her around the city when they both had the time during those two weeks in the Castle Town.

About a year ago, he and his master the Hylian Lord Ambassador had relocated to the southern city of Crimen, located in Lakeland Province, close to the Drought Country border. The Ambassador, one Lord Ares of Crimen, was Lord and ruler of the city. Ferrick loved Crimen, for its warm weather, tropical flora and fauna, and close proximity to Parchen. While the Capital was two and a half weeks of hard travel away from Parchen, Crimen was about five days to the arid border town.

Thanks to the leylines that ran throughout all of Hyrule, it was possible for communication to move far faster than travel could. Magic truly was a wondrous thing, for all its complications. Rabiyu shuddered to think of life without leyline communication, especially if Ferrick still lived in the Capital. It would take four weeks to contact Ferrick, and just as long for him to get to Parchen. She couldn't meet him halfway – travel on the Plains meant bandits, particularly on the trade routes. It was dangerous for even Hylian men, let alone a single Gerudo woman. Her father would never allow it, and Rabiyu couldn't blame him. So Parchen it was, the one city that was safe for Gerudo women.

Rabiyu and Tanya had been traveling for about nine hours total by the time Parchen came into view on the horizon. They had taken another rest several hours after noon. The buildings of the city were fairly short and squat, but the Plains were quite flat – the two women could see for miles in every direction. Despite the visibility of the city, it still took another hour to reach its gates. It wasn't even close to dusk, but the two Gerudos were exhausted. They made their way through the streets of Parchen, to the inn they would stay at. Rabiyu had sent a message across the leylines to her and Ferrick's favored inn the day before, so all that was needed was a little drop of blood to confirm her identity. The innkeeper's men took their horses and things, and the two women were then escorted to most expensive accommodations, one with a separate room for servants. Such accommodations were intended for nobility or the wealthy. Parchen did not typically receive such high-status guests, but in Hyrule, every inn of quality was required to have at least one set of rooms for those of the upper classes.

Tanya went into her room, and Rabiyu laid down on the wide bed in the master bedroom of her lodgings. She fell asleep before she could even wipe the dust and sweat off her travel-greased face, or get beneath the covers.

Rabiyu woke to the groan of water running through pipes. It was a sound she'd only heard outside of the Fortress. In Hyrule proper, bathing was not communal. So baths were taken in bathrooms. The Fortress didn't even have those – bathing was done at the Bathing Falls, waste was passed in the privies located on each floor of one's residence, and faces were washed and teeth cleaned in the privacy of one's home in front of a wash stand with water provided by an ewer. It was a strange difference but the sound was oddly comforting. She sighed, stretched, and fell asleep again.

Hands gently shook her awake. She exhaled noisily through her nose.

"Mnn. Go 'way." The owner of those hands snickered. It was a very male laugh. Ferrick.

"Come on, dear. It's twelve o' clock, so we have four hours until midnight. You need some food. And a bath. Badly." Rabiyu made a derisive snort. His hands prevented her from rolling away and going back to sleep. She grunted, thwarted.

"Rabiyu…" He said pleadingly.

"Fine, 'm up." Rabiyu grumbled, levering herself up into sitting upright. She rubbed blearily at her eyes, then grimaced as her dirty hands merely rubbed grit further in. After a moment she gave up, and looked up at her lover.

Ferrick had changed quite a bit since he'd first met her at seventeen years old, gangling and thin. Since then, he'd shot up another six inches, and filled out considerably after picking up the sword and traveling by horse so often. He would never be as good at fighting as his Gerudo lover, but few were. Now twenty-one, his shoulders had broadened, and his body had packed on muscle, though it would always look stringy on him rather than sculpted. Ferrick was doomed to remain a string-bean for the rest of his life. Rabiyu didn't mind.

He was just as dirty as she was, perhaps more. They were both covered in dust, but he also had grass in his medium brown hair, and some kind of gory glop caked on beneath the dirt.

"What in the world did you fall into, to get so filthy?" She wondered aloud, and Ferrick grinned.

"I ran across a nest of Peahats on the way from Crimen, and I decided to exterminate them so they would stop bothering the local farmers. I just forgot that if you kill them with magic, they explode."

"I see." He shrugged sheepishly and sat on the bed next to her.

"I'd kiss you hello, but I don't think either of us would enjoy the taste of dirt and Peahat guts. I've run us a bath. Tanya already took hers."

"That sounds wonderful." Rabiyu sighed, already looking forward to being clean.

"Tanya told me she's with you because you injured your feet. I know you were hurt weeks ago, and how, from the letter you sent over the leylines, but even badly burned feet should heal completely with a good healer. What is going on?" The princess hitched one shoulder up in a half-shrug, leaning against her lover.

"Apparently Dinofols breathe magic flame. It's like a combination of poison and fire. I don't know if the skin will ever heal." She fiddled with a lock of hair, a nervous habit she normally tried to repress.

"I guess I'll … just have to carry you everywhere then!" And with that he unceremoniously scooped her up into his arms, bridal-style. She laughed, and put up a good fight, just for show. Injured feet or not, she was just as compactly muscular as Ferrick remembered. Even though he had a good foot of height on her, it was only through his hard work getting in shape that made it possible to lift her with any kind of ease.

He carried her, protesting, into the bathroom, where a large copper bathtub awaited, full of steaming water, and set her down on the stool that sat in front of a lady's dressing table and mirror.

Together they removed their clothes. Ferrick left his trousers on, and helped Rabiyu into the tub. She sighed, sinking into the very hot water, her dark skin turning bright red in response to the heat. He dragged the stool over to the tub and sat on it. After removing much of the grime with a rough cloth, he got to work with a clean cloth and some rosemary-scented soap. He was especially tender with her feet, then lathered up his hands to wash her hair. Ferrick let his hands massage her scalp, then moved on to her neck and shoulders, easing away the tension from the day's journey. When he was done, she ducked under the water to rinse her hair, then climbed out of the tub to let him have a turn before the water got cold. He stripped the rest of his clothes off and got in. Rabiyu got started by picking grass out of his hair, then moved on to soap up a second rough cloth, as the gore was caked on quite thickly. They did this for each other every time they met, washing the grime of travelling away, rebuilding intimacy, silently. Thoughts and words could be sent easily over the leylines for a price. But this, this was not so easily transmitted - the sheer physicality of touch and skin. They drained the tub once they were both clean and toweled off. Ferrick insisted on carrying his lover back to the bed, and pulled extra gauze bandages and burn balm out of Rabiyu's travel bags. He gently smeared the soothing balm on, then wrapped her feet with the gauze.

"Are you up for dinner or should we ask the innkeeper to send up food?" Ferrick asked, pulling on clean clothes. Rabiyu considered, as she dressed herself.

"Can we do that? Get dinner sent up, I mean. They've never given us that option before."

"Not then, yes, but we're using the most expensive room in the building. They do things like that for the upper class. And we are, after all, nobility."

"I suppose dinner here would be nice, especially since you wrapped up my feet already."

Ferrick agreed, and after consulting Tanya, left the room to talk with the master of the inn. He returned a long while later, loaded down with a basket of food. He set it down on a low table in the living room of the finely appointed set of rooms they'd rented.

On top of the food was a rolled up tablecloth, which Rabiyu spread on the low table. The rich indigo fabric was soft from use, dyed blue with woad, a plant native to the steppes. Out of the basket came a couple of apples and pears, imported from the orchards of the Lakeland Province. There was a variety of hard and soft cheeses, mostly of local sheep and goat's cheese. A small loaf of crusty bread was provided, already sliced and wrapped in a warm, moist cloth to keep the bread from drying out. A modest pat of sweet herb butter came with the bread. There were fine china plates to eat off of, a butter knife for the butter, and a sharper knife to cut the cheese and fruit. Finally, there was a carafe of watered-down red wine and two wine glasses, fine ones by the opinion of the locals, but nowhere near the quality of those produced by Gerudo glass-smiths. There was a small clay mug for Tanya to drink out of, almost as an afterthought.

Ferrick called Tanya out of her room, and she prepared a plate for herself. He tried to make conversation with the older woman, but she refused to talk to him much, filled the small cup with wine herself (refusing the wine glass Ferrick offered her), and asked for Rabiyu's permission to leave, which Rabiyu gave her. Tanya retreated to her quarters. Rabiyu shook her head.

"I'm sorry about her behavior." She said quietly, pouring herself a small glass of weak wine.

"It's all right." Ferrick said off-handedly, cutting slices of pear and hard cheese. "Was it because I'm Hylian, or is it just her way?"

"The last one." Rabiyu replied, spreading butter on bread. "She acts normally around who she considers normal people. I suppose she doesn't know what to do with outsiders. Not Hylians, or men. And she isn't comfortable around nobles either."

"You don't have many of those in the Fortress, though." He pointed out.

"No. There's just the King, the Queen, the heir, and the King's daughters. And the daughters don't pass the noble blood to their own children. She says she knows her place."

"As Hylian nobility , I suppose I should approve. But I don't. In my family lands at Rosethorn, we have a soldier by the name of Hollan Harris. He always speaks his mind, and my uncle, who rules our lands, would prefer to have him cast out, but the Harris clan has served our family since the founding of Rosethorn, and Hollan is the last of his family. I've always received the best advice from him, a man with no education." Ferrick's smile turned soft. "After I met you, I asked him what to do. And he said to try, rather than marry some delicate Hylian flower who wilts easily. He also said I needed someone bold enough to handle me." Rabiyu smiled, propping her feet on an empty section of the table.

"I think I like this Hollan of yours. But who says I'm not delicate, hm?"

"I know better than to answer that." Ferrick leaned back with a grin. She chuckled.

"Wise man. Where did you learn that tact of yours?"

"Fending off the court women my mother wants me to marry."

"Why don't you just choose one?" She said it half-serious, but Ferrick smirked, mischief in his hazel eyes.

"I'm an ambitious man, that's why. Only a princess will do. Princess Zelda is too young, as is the Zora Princess Ruto. But the Gerudo Princess is about my age. She has a pleasant temperament, moves well, and has a refined mind. Of course," he said, pouring himself a glass of wine, "She has other fine qualities as well, but I won't go into those." He leaned over and kissed her right on her pouting mouth. She laughed into his mouth. "Come on, dear. The cheese is delicious."

They fed each other with their fingers, the traditional Gerudo custom among lovers and married couples. Between them both, they demolished most of the food, leaving only a little wine in the bottle. Ferrick helped his lover into the bathroom, where they both cleaned their teeth, and then they adjourned to the bedroom.

They pulled on nightwear – unnecessary in the desert, where the sand and rock radiated the heat soaked up during the day, but it got cold on autumn nights when one lived on the barren expanse of the steppe. Ferrick and Rabiyu snuggled together under the covers, and sleep deeply.

Since Rabiyu had left, Link had thought deeply about his newly discovered gift of magic through music.

Reya still awoke some nights, unable to sleep when wracked with the phantom-pain of her lost limb. Perhaps he could magic away her pain with a song? What about tiredness? Could he get Aru to go all day practicing down in the training grounds without a break?

Aru agreed to let him experiment for a day, and sure enough, it worked. When she felt tired, she walked over to where Link was sitting. He played the traditional dance songs, lively tunes that made feet tap and heads nod to the beat. As he played he tried to push his own energy and lack of tiredness into the music and through it, into Aru. Each time he played for her when she tired, and it was nearing dinnertime when Aru made him stop, claiming she had a terrible headache. Link agreed readily – whatever magic he had used had drained him quite a bit. He ate ravenously at supper.

A few nights later, Reya woke their family up, whimpering in pain, and sweaty from nightmares. Link asked his mother if he could play her back to sleep, and Nabooru approved. Reya was eager to get back to sleep, so Link fished his ocarina out of his day things, and blew a few notes to test if any sand had gotten in it. He settled on the edge of her sleeping mat, and began to play a lullaby.

He played the sweet, short song his mother had always sung him before bed, when they had both been little. Link concentrated on soothing thoughts as the song fluttered out of the instrument, the lyrics running through his head as he played.

_Wind blows,_

_Shutters closed._

_Inside we're safe,_

_Inside we sleep._

_Sun down,_

_All 'round._

_Inside we're tired,_

_Inside we dream._

_Eyes shut tight,_

_We say goodnight._

_Until morning dawn_

_We sleep,_

_Goodnight!_

Link finished the melody with a warble, and looked at Reya. Her pretty face was slack in sleep, breathing slow and deep. His accomplished smile cracked into a yawn. Just playing the song had made him sleepy as well. He left his sleeping cousin for his own welcoming nest of blankets.

Chapter Thirteen: Of Catalysts

The first thing Rabiyu noticed as she woke was the nausea, roiling and urgent. She leapt to her feet and hobbled into the bathroom, where she vomited into the toilet. She coughed and gagged over the bowl, then slumped against it. The sour, acidic smell stung her nose, and she retched again. Ferrick's warm hands rubbed her back as she subsided, hands that were dexterous but not as strong or calloused as her own.

Once the weak shakiness left her limbs, she flushed the toilet and sat on the seat cover. Ferrick handed her a glass of water, which she drank gratefully. They moved into the sitting room, on a plush couch.

"You're pregnant, aren't you." Ferrick said without explanation.

"I am." She replied quietly. He swallowed audibly, eyes distant.

"She's mine?" He said faintly, voice almost a squeak. Rabiyu just smiled, and nodded. All the air in his lungs left in one unsteady exhalation, his hand going to his eyes. "I need… to think about this a bit before we can talk about the future. But I am happy. About this." Ferrick stood, and turned to his lover. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Rabiyu sighed, then smiled just as quickly. She supposed she couldn't ask for more than this. "I would. But first could you open the curtains? I'd like some sun on my face." Ferrick did so, letting the morning sunshine spill into the room. She closed her eyes as he left, the light warming her skin.

Rabiyu was dozing in the sun when Ferrick returned with a servant and food a half-hour later. Breakfast was spiced barley porridge, fruit juice, some kind of herbal tea, scrambled eggs, and mutton sausages. Together the two men arranged the hot plates on the table, and then the servant boy left the two guests to their meal. Ferrick and Rabiyu talked of everything and nothing as they fed each other, this time using utensils rather than fingers. At last they were finished, leaving no room for silence. Rabiyu opened her mouth to speak, but Ferrick beat her to it.

"I've been thinking about marrying you for some time now." He said quietly. She closed her mouth. She'd been aware of his feelings. His honest face never could hide anything from her. "I know it's not typical. I know you can't leave the Fortress for long, as you're to be Queen when your father passes. I never expected you to be a proper Hylian wife anyway – you're far too independent than that. I'm the seventh son of a seventh son – there will be no land or much money for our daughter when she inherits, but for what I earn myself. I'd hoped for more time to bring my parents around to seeing my side of things, and to propose it formally to my Lord the Hylian Ambassador. But we do the best with what's given to us, and I'm happy, Rabiyu, I really am." Rabiyu smiled, and it was like the dawn on a winter's day.

"You and me, Ferrick. We'll do well together, like we always do." She touched his cheek, and he grinned a little mistily.

"So that's yes?" She laughed, touching her forehead to his.

"Yes. You won't be King of the Gerudos or anything like that."

"They'll never know what they were missing." He joked, pulling away but taking her hand in his own. "No. I'll settle for consort and prize husband. What do you think your father will say?"

"I don't know. He's stressed, and tired from begging the Hylian scum for mercy." Her smile was wry, softening the cruelty in her words. "And I think he's finally realized I'm not his little girl any longer. I'm out of his control now, with my own life to lead."

"He never was one for losing control. But I think our marriage would actually do the Gerudo some good, politically, at least. I may not be a influential man, but my family name is one of the oldest in nobility. Pairing Gerudo and Hylian nobility together might satisfy the more conservative in court. Why don't we ask him? I'd like his blessing, at least. I'll never get my own parents' acceptance. I don't think they understand how serious I am about you."

"Well they will soon, when you run away with me!" Rabiyu laughed, and he shook his head, smiling wryly.

"They always acted like if they pushed enough eligible girls at me I'd settle down with one of them, when -"

"—When all you wanted was to write your letters to me? Yes, I remember. You're lucky I like you, or your poetry would have sent me running for the desert."

"It was rather awful, looking back on it." He agreed readily, eyes shining with love and humor. "I'm glad I stopped, it wasn't like I was enjoying writing those. I'm not one for metered rhyme."

"Well, neither am I." She said serenely, "Aren't you lucky you have me?"

"Dearling," He said, "I count my blessings every day."

Rabiyu and Ferrick talked much of the day away about their plans for the future, before segueing into a discussion of the new gold mine just being dug in the northern Province of Arryn and what it would do for the region's economy. They planned to leave Parchen in two days. The next day was spent visiting their favorite spots in Parchen, a city they'd come to know quite well during four years of visits.

The trouble came when Ferrick left Rabiyu at a small outdoor restaurant to run a several errands. It was noon, and she enjoyed the sun on her skin and the cool autumn breeze, a plate of minted lamb dumplings sitting by her elbow, and a mug of spiced tea warming her hands.

A large man slipped into the chair just across the small table. His forehead was high, his features striking, with dark hair and eyes.

"Hey, chickie." He crooned, grinning. "So when do you want it?" He gestured at his groin, none too discreetly.

"What?" She said sharply, snapping out of her daydreams. Her amber eyes narrowed as she surveyed the man before her. "I don't think so."

"Don't be coy." The man tried a winning smile on to cover his displeasure. "It doesn't suit you. You're all alone, a Gerudo woman in Parchen, waiting around in public. Everyone knows what that means."

Oh. She'd always known Parchen was the preferred ground for trysts between Gerudo women and Hylian men, strangers all, but in her personal experience it had always represented a committed relationship to her. She'd never had any other man besides Ferrick, and preferred it that way. It wasn't this man's fault – her situation was a bit of an anomaly, though he could have been a little less blatant. Then again, maybe some women preferred just cutting straight to the sex, rather than fooling around with pretty words and flirtations.

So she took a deep breath and kept this in mind.

"I'm sorry. That is what it usually means. But you see, I've already selected my bedmate for the night. He's away running some errands right now, but he should be back soon."

"I see." His tone was bleak, face and ears going red – whether with anger or embarrassment she couldn't tell. She took pity on him, this man who was perhaps seven or so years older than her.

"Did you travel far to get here?" He blinked at her in confusion. "You're wearing hose under a tunic." She clarified, "Men in Drought Country wear breeches and bare shins. Also, your tunic is crimson, of a particular shade that only comes from cochineal-based dyes, which means you're probably from the east. Rainfall Province is my guess."

"You're close." The man said, surprised, anger forgotten. "Province of Imally. I'm from near of Briarsedge." Rabiyu did the calculations in her head.

"That's about sixty leagues away." She said thoughtfully, "You've come a long way."

"That's right." He agreed. "Five day's journey."

"Why are you here? I can't imagine it's for the women alone." The man looked at her, considering.

"No," He said slowly, "That's just a bonus. I belong to a group of soldiers-for-hire, and we have… a job in… Mudwater. We… left early to get here and enjoy ourselves for a few days." Rabiyu frowned. He was obviously lying, but she knew better than to ask him what the job entailed. Most mercenaries were hired under magical contract and forbidden to speak the details of their job unless special provision were made in the contract.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rabiyu saw Ferrick approaching in the distance.

"Well, I hope your assignment goes well." She said calmly. "Here's my man right now." She nodded her head at her lover's direction, and the man turned to look.

"You chose him over me?" He said incredulously, "That skinny little bit of nothing?" Rabiyu shrugged.

"I like him, and that's all there is to it." The man's pretty mouth twisted.

"I suppose there's no accounting for taste." He said, somewhat peeved.

"I suppose so." Ferrick weaved his way through the tables in the open-air restaurant and stopped in front of them. The man was sitting in his chair.

"Hullo." Ferrick said, doing his best to look calm, hand rising to his ear clip. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm not sure, dear." Rabiyu said smoothly, "We had a bit of a misunderstanding is all. Well! It was nice meeting you, Master…uh…" She looked to the man in query. His face had gone white when Ferrick went for his ear clip. Now he blinked.

"It's Roderik. Roderik Lombarsson. Nice meeting you, Miss. I… I think I need to go now." He got up quickly and left, obviously shaken. Ferrick sighed, and settled into the vacated chair.

"Now what was that about, Rabiyu?" He wondered. Unknown to him, Roderik Lombarsson heard his words as he left. The older man's face went even paler when he heard Rabiyu's name, and he fled the scene as quickly as he could.

Rabiyu kicked Ferrick's shin with the side of her foot, avoiding her burnt soles.

"What were you doing?!" She hissed, leaning over the small table. "He wasn't doing anything wrong except propositioning me, and you go for the ear clip." Rabiyu was speaking off the small ear clips most Hylians used to suppress their magic. All adults knew how to control their magic, but the majority chose to wear a suppressant rather than try to stay in control all the time. Removing an ear clip in tense situations was regarded as a threat. "Did you want to announce to the world that you specialize in magic, and you're good enough to use it in combat? Well?!"

"You're pregnant, and you looked distinctly uncomfortable." Ferrick said, setting his mouth in a firm line. "I know you can look after yourself normally, but you're injured, and you have to think of more than yourself right now."

"All he wanted was sex, Ferrick, and he backed off when I told him I already had a lover. Is this some kind of hormone-driven man thing? Because I have no sympathy for such things, and we've never had this problem before."

"That would probably be because you think of me as a very culturally ignorant Gerudo woman with no chest to speak of and extra equipment below." Rabiyu gaped at him.

"I… I do not!" She protested, and her fiancé held up his hand.

"Rabiyu, he had at least five weapons on him."

"He did not, or I would've seen them."

"They were magically concealed, and three knives had other kinds of blade-spells on them. He was an assassin, Rabiyu. And a good one, judging by his fine clothing." Rabiyu slapped the table with fingers spread, a standard Gerudo gesture to change the subject or go back to a previous topic.

"How could you tell?" She demanded, "If they're supposed to be concealed, then how could you detect them?" Ferrick sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I'm a pure Light type. It's rare, but the more I train my magic, the more I can see the presence of spells. I haven't let anyone know. If they did? Well. My family would lock me away rather than let me run away with you. They'd chain me up and force me to reproduce with some girl with strong magic."

"Why would they do that? Isn't it just a rare type of magic?" Asked Rabiyu, never one for magic beyond the basics.

"To explain will require a story." Ferrick said slowly, "One that probably should not be spoken in public. Why don't we head back once you're finished eating?" Rabiyu looked down at her plate, then crammed the last lamb dumpling in her mouth, chewing thoroughly. When she had swallowed the mouthful down, she reached for her walking stick, which leaned against her chair.

"Let's go back to the room." She said, and her lover helped her to her feet. She made a gesture, and Tanya melted out of the background to stand at her mistress's side. They walked slowly through the streets of Parchen to their lodgings.

The heart of Parchen had originally been simple living quarters for the miners working in the local garnet mines. At first there had merely been the mine and the barracks, but slowly, the miners sent for their families to move into the settlement, and proper houses began to be built. As the population increased, so did the demand for various services, such as grocers, butchers, clerks and so on, drawing in merchants from Mudwater and other settlements in Drought Country. Now a bustling city, Parchen had grown around the residential area, until the mine which had started in the center of town, now stood on the northernmost edge of the settlement. The streets were narrow and winding, but Rabiyu and Ferrick knew their way around from many previous visits, and Tanya followed them through the city.

"So what's this all about?" Rabiyu asked when they had entered their rooms. Tanya took the opportunity to disappear into her room. The couple arranged themselves on the sofa.

"Do you remember that old legend of why Hyrule is isolated from the rest of the world?" Rabiyu frowned thoughtfully.

"Hyrule was once part of a greater world, a planet called Vanity. Hyrule was one of many countries on the main continent. Over the ages, the various countries began to war with each other, looking to expand their territories and might. A neighboring country looked to conquer Hyrule, so the people of Hyrule called out and prayed to the Goddesses to save them. The three Goddesses answered, and together with the unified peoples of early Hyrule, did a great work of magic and removed Hyrule from the rest of the world. Now the people of Vanity cannot cross our borders." She recited slowly, remembering her own education as a child. Ferrick nodded.

"Exactly. That work of magic is why Hyrule is criss-crossed with leylines. Six temples were built at the conjunctions of major leylines, to continue to generate the power required to maintain our isolation. One representative from each race was chosen to serve the temples, along with their followers. These representatives were called Sages. They were in charge of keeping the temples running and pure, and their souls were bound to their temple, so they could maintain their temples even in death. The Hylian Sage was named Rauru. That's where my family gets our surname – Rauros. He was an incredibly powerful Light mage. But no one in our family has been born with pure light magic in any form of strength. Until me."

"And they'd want you to breed many powerful children with pure light magic, to carry on the line." She said, eyes wide in realization.

"Yes. But I'd rather marry you and have daughters than carry on the family gift."

"So many things… Why can't our lives be simple?" Rabiyu mused, leaning against her lover.

"I have no answer for you. Shall we begin the engagement ceremony?" He asked, stroking her hair.

"Yes, I'm ready."

A Hylian engagement ritual was typically a public thing, but it could be preformed by just the couple, if one of the two was skilled in magic. Fortunately, that was the case.

Ferrick invoked the names of the three Goddesses, asking for happiness, commitment, fertility, and health. He drew a knife, and cut his finger, smearing the blood on her forehead, over her heart, and across her lower belly. Then he instructed Rabiyu to do the same to him. Finally, he let a drop of his blood fall into her open mouth, then consumed a bead of her own blood. He wiped off the blade, and sheathed it.

"And that's it." Ferrick told her, "Magically, we are married. Legally, we are not. Tradition holds that we would live in separate housing and not have intercourse until a year passed, but that is for virgins, which we are not." Rabiyu grinned at that.

"What do you say we celebrate our marriage, then?" She said coyly, and Ferrick smiled back.

"Why Mistress Rauros, I think that is a splendid idea." He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. For once, she went without protest.

"So describe her to us, Roderik. One more time." The leader of their gang said, pale eyes glittering. Roderik nodded, wiping sweaty hands on his tunic.

"She's average height. Gerudo, of course. Dark skin, copper hair up in braids, gold eyes. Plain, not pretty. She is travelling with two companions. Very muscular, walks with a pronounced limp."

"Good," the other man said, "It'll make her easier to kill." Roderik went quite white.

"You said we would not be killing anymore, Arrun!" He protested. "We were to kidnap her for ransom!" Arrun snorted.

"What, lost your nerve? The money is too good to pass up. Kill her and any witnesses. They should be returning to the Gerudo city soon. That part of the country is very isolated. We'll get them then." Roderik swallowed thickly. He hated killing, but what could one do? His only skill was fighting, and there was no call for enlisting soldiers anymore, not in these days of peace. Still… he felt strangely reluctant to kill this woman. Yes, she'd turned him down, but so did most women, and at least she had done it nicely. As his leader looked at him expectantly, he knew what he had to do.

"Fine," Roderik said off-handedly, "One last time. Bitch deserves it anyway," He added for verisimilitude, "Turned me down for a skinny little wretch. You should have told me we were killing her earlier – I would've killed her after I had my way with her." Arrun chuckled, approving.

"That's the spirit. One last time, and we'll have enough money to buy ourselves places in the army, war or none."

"Are Wolfe or Heinrich still watching her?" He wondered.

"Yes. She should be leaving tomorrow."

"Good. I'm going to find a women for the night, and some dinner. Should I bring some back?" Arrun Finglas smiled, teeth sharp.

"No. Enjoy yourself. We have hard work to do tomorrow." Roderik nodded.

"Understood. Til then, Arrun." He stood up and left, and did not mention that one of their target's companions was trained in combat magic. He'd seen the way that boy had relaxed as he went for his clip.

Now, to find a restaurant that served minted lamb. He was deathly allergic to the aromatic herb. Mint would keep him out of action for at least three days, and their killing contract would expire before then. Despite the years together, he felt no real kinship with his fellows any longer. Heinrich had convinced him more than a decade ago to join the band rather than take up a craft and earn a living honestly – and then immediately ceased any pretenses of friendship with Roderik once he'd bound himself to the band. Wolfe was always borrowing money and never returning it. Arrun frightened Roderik, with his love of killing and money.

No. Let the other men go at their own peril.

A fully trained mage!

Roderik was simple, not stupid.

Dawn came late that morning, the sun's light stolen by a blanket of grey clouds that filled the sky. In other parts of the country, this would be a herald of rain. But in Drought Country, it simply denied what little warmth the autumnal sun could have offered.

The small party of three - Ferrick, Rabiyu and Tanya – had packed the night before, so all they had to do was eat breakfast, pack for the day's meals, and ready the horses.

The married couple rode side by side, discussing the merits of different baby names. Eventually they narrowed their choices to names that sounded both Hylian and Gerudo in nature.

They were well on their way to the Fortress, when Ferrick stopped the two women. Parchen had been out of sight for hours.

"There are three men on horseback, following us." He said urgently, "They're magically concealed, but I can see them." Rabiyu cursed.

"We'll lose them easily once we reach the hill path." She said decisively. "We'll take the harder trail."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"I am. Unless they're close enough for your magic to reach?"

"I'm afraid not." Ferrick's voice was apologetic. Rabiyu sighed, stressed.

"Then we'll have to run for it. The valley hills are not a half-league away." Her companions nodded, and kicked their horses into a canter, then a gallop. A quick glance backward told Ferrick that their pursuers had followed their suit, and were slowly gaining on them. He, Rabiyu, and Tanya had selected their horses specifically for long-distance travel, while it was likely that the mercenaries behind them had chosen faster horses for their purposes.

The ground started to become steeper and uneven. Ten minutes later there was a shout from Tanya. Her horse had flung a shoe on the craggy rock and gravel.

"Go!" She yelled, "Leave me here!" Rabiyu wheeled her horse around and rode back to her bodyguard.

"No, we will not. Ferrick, to me. We'll fight the bastards." Her new husband drew his mare up next to her.

"Stay on your horse, Rabiyu. Don't forget your feet."

"I won't."

"Did either of you pack bows?" Rabiyu shook her head, and he swore.

"Then we'll have to fight, one-on-one. You'll have to get them to stay still – I'm not that good at combat magic."

"Fine. Tanya, are you ready?"

"Yes, my lady."

Anxiously, they watched the horizon where Ferrick said the attackers would be. Fifty yards away the men dropped the concealment spell, charging the trio. Rabiyu and Tanya held their swords calmly. Blood was already painted on Ferrick's palms, ready to use for deadly spells. One of the assassins drew his bow, firing a volley of arrows. Ferrick hadn't thought to put up an arrow shield spell, and caught off guard, Tanya took an arrow to the shoulder. Another arrow whistled past Ferrick's head, another struck Rabiyu's horse in the next. It reared, and Rabiyu shouted, clinging to the horse's back as it bucked.

And then the attackers were on them. Tanya and Ferrick clashed with the men, Tanya, having ripped out the arrow, wielding her scimitar left-handed. A jolt of magic from Ferrick sent a man off his horse to topple to the ground, twitching as he died. Tanya beheaded another. Together the bodyguard and scholar attacked the last man. Tanya harried him with her sword, getting him still enough to let Ferrick hit him with the same spell that had killed the first man. The assassin didn't die easily. A crazed look on his face, he swung wildly, slashing open Ferrick's cheek. Tanya skewered him with her blade, and mercenary finally died. The men's horses fled the scene, the beheaded man's body still slumped over his horse's back.

Ferrick turned to look at Rabiyu, wiping sweat from his forehead, then froze, staring.

"Rabiyu!" He screamed.

She lay crumpled on the ground, her neck bent at an impossible angle. With no stirrups attached to her horse, it had thrown her, and she'd been dashed against the loose rock.

He slid off his mare, and cradled her body to him, his head shaking back and forth in disbelief. Her warmth faded rapidly.

She was dead.

She couldn't be. He'd just married her! What of the baby? What about the Gerudos, whom she was to lead one day? This couldn't be happening. They'd worked so hard for so long, and finally everything was theirs, everything. The future had been theirs, hardships no obstacle for happiness. But now this.

Ferrick could feel his mouth, shaping the words 'No, no, no,' over and over, disconnected from his body but painfully aware of reality.

She was dead.

**Chapter Fourteen: Of Grief**

Rabiyu was entombed five days later. Ferrick felt it should rain, that the sky should weep with him, and all the women who knew her, the women who wept with him. But it did not rain. It never rained in the desert, so the sun simply bore down hard on the black-clad congregation. Black was the Gerudo's mourning color. Red was the Hylian's. So Ferrick wore a combination of both. The dark clothes soaked up the heat of the autumnal sun. For the Gerudo, mourning colors were not meant to be practical.

As Rabiyu was once their future queen, the entire population, all fifteen hundred Gerudos were present for the funeral, standing in the shifting sand outside of the Desert Colossus.

Five days ago. It felt like a lifetime. He'd been ecstatic. And terrified. Ferrick had gone from a devoted lover to a husband and future father in a few days. And just as quickly, a widower. He hadn't even got to meet his daughter before she was gone.

Queen Nabooru stood quietly, dark skin pale and eyes bloodshot. Rabiyu's students were inconsolable. The Hylian child, Link, the boy who'd been raised in secret by the Queen, made no effort to control his sobs. Only his mother's comforting arm kept him upright.

Ganondorf stood rigid in the midst of the weeping women. His eyes were dry, his face still. It was a frightening placidity, the kind of absolute stillness that meant he was anything but calm underneath.

A week to mourn at the Fortress, the King had said. You loved her purely, I won't deny that. For that I'll give you a week, and then I never want to see you again.

Ferrick couldn't blame him. Suddenly he understood what it was like for the king. Their daughters dead, the woman who was the mother of their child and their lover, gone for good. He worried the Gerudo marriage ring the Queen's sister had made him, twisting it around his finger. It was white gold wire closely wrapped around his forefinger up to the first knuckle, adorned with a small moonstone like the one Rabiyu had worn on her forehead. There was no way to take it off without ruining it. Typically, Gerudo women made their wife's ring themselves, but that was not possible in Ferrick's case.

Tears dripped down his face unnoticed, and soaked into his collar. As someone who had been close to Rabiyu, he was allowed to follow the priestesses carrying the open funeral litter into the temple, through red sandstone corridors floored with fine white sand, to the Royal catacombs. The Gerudo Queens and Kings were laid out on flat pedestals in the combs, bodies time-preserved, seemingly sleeping. Rabiyu had been preserved in the same way, her broken neck straightened. Here she would rest, for eternity. The priestesses laid the crown-princess onto her pedestal, laying the ceremonial sword and thresh in her hands, arms crossed over chest. She'd been dressed in silk batik, in her favored colors of white, blue and gold. Earrings of snowflake obsidian studded the round shells of her ears. She lay there, eyes closed and mouth faintly smiling. Ferrick wanted nothing more than to get on that pedestal, curl up with her in his arms, and sleep, never to wake.

Prayers and blessings were said, calling on Din to deliver their Princess to the afterlife quickly, to make a place for her at their table, where wine and fruit was plentiful, and no one ever went hungry.

Praise was spoken quietly, of her kindness, her unusual maturity, and her wisdom. Ferrick remained quiet as the others who had loved Rabiyu spoke. Exceptions had been made for him to even enter the Desert Colossus, let alone speak of the beloved dead. He would not be allowed to tell of her strength, of her dry humor, of her temper, or her insecurity with herself. At last a final prayer was said, and a small skylight was opened over her pedestal, letting a beam of sunlight spill onto her face. Now Rabiyu would never be locked away from the sun.

Slowly, everyone trailed out of the Desert Colossus. The King stood on the steps of the temple, speaking of his loss to the massive crowd of his people, voice carrying over the sands. The man's voice was calm, so very calm. Ferrick shivered, and let himself be lost in the crowd.

Ferrick Rauros left the Fortress two days after the funeral. Ganondorf watched him go, high on the Fortress wall. Nabooru stood quietly beside him.

"Do you know, Nabooru, what that young man promised me?" He said slowly, eyes on the Hylian's disappearing figure. "He promised to do everything in his power to make our territory a province of Hyrule." Ganondorf chuckled, shaking his head. "It's a diplomatic nightmare for those pompous elves. Three Hylians killing a defenseless, pregnant Gerudo Princess. Even the most conservative noble will admit that Hyrule will have to make some kind of amends to us. And I think he will succeed, that boy. I should have sent more guards with her. I should have locked her in the Fortress and made her lover come to her. Three assassins. If that boy hadn't killed them, we would have never known what had happened to her. They would have killed Tanya, and left them to rot on those cursed steppes, to be devoured by jackals and the guay. Din above!" He swore, clenching his fist and bringing it down on the stone retaining wall. "Haven't we suffered enough already?"

"You believe it was Tabiya who hired the assassins?" Nabooru asked, eyes hard.

"Yes. Apparently the warning four years ago was not enough. I'll see her in traitor's green, kneeling on Vengeance Rock as soon as I can."

"Do you really think she is to blame? I believe it was fairly clear that it was a Hylian plot. What if she is innocent?" Ganondorf smiled slowly and toothily.

"Do you really think anyone will care, after plotting to kill Rabiyu and I not four years ago?"

"They should." Nabooru said firmly. Her husband shrugged.

"Many things should be. Few are. Alas, we do not live in an ideal world. Her ambition to be Queen might have been thwarted, but her daughters were next in line for the throne after Rabiyu. I will disown them both – a traitorous mother is reason enough."

"Then who will be heir?" She wondered, and her husband and lord grinned sharply.

"Who else but the one Gerudo Rabiyu loved most? You have no idea."

"Of what?"

"How much I want to wipe those Hylians off the face of Vanity, to be done with them once and for all. I would love to raze Parchen to the ground, so I might never see it again. Just…" He gestured, "Gone. But an attack on Hyrule would be foolish. Those cursed men would jump at the chance to kill us all. So I must wait. Until power has shifted to my side. Until what I suspect to be true is verified. And then…? I will strike, like a viper does. Strike quickly at the very moment when they least expect it." Nabooru's mouth dropped open in shock.

"You can't… you can't seriously be speaking of declaring war on the Hylians?!"

"Not war, Nabooru. Not war. Rather, a coup."

"And if you fail? You will damn us all."

"When have you ever known me to fail, my dear? Aside from gardening and changing an elf's mind?" He eyed the sun, then turned away. "It is later than I thought. I will be gone two days. Tell everyone not to be frightened. And don't let anyone come after me."

"Gan?" She wanted to know, using her pet-name for him. "What is going on?"

"You'll see." Was his enigmatic reply as he left.

Within hours of the King's departure, loud explosions began to emit from the desert. A high-pitched whine sang constantly in everyone's ears, wavering but never fading, putting the entire Fortress on edge. The explosions were infrequent, and sometimes there were long pauses between blasts.

Once it was dark, the Fortress's inhabitants noticed great flashes of light accompanying the explosions, leading them to surmise it was their King causing the strange effects, hurling spells out in the desert in his grief. After a while, late in the night the magic stopped, finally letting the Gerudo rest peacefully.

The noises started up again at dawn. Smoke drifted into the Fortress on the desert wind. Ganondorf's subjects did their best not to be frightened, as per his commands. More present was awe – that their lord should be so powerful, so skilled in magic, and such a master of himself that he could delay his anger and grief for an entire week before letting it all out in a safe location.

The cacophony continued long into the night, and after a while, the women of the Fortress went on with their duties.

The third day came and went. The Gerudo began to worry.

The fourth day changed everything.

Link didn't know what had compelled him to do this crazy thing. He knew it was foolhardy, but here he was, doing exactly that. He walked silently down the road to the Desert Gate in the rear of the Fortress. As the boy walked, he played a slow, furtive melody on his ocarina. The tune was called 'Thief Sneaks By', and Link did his best to project secrecy and invisibility. So far it was working – no one had even glanced his way.

A guard stood at the small gate, alert. Link hid himself from view, just around the corner. He quickly switched to a lullaby, the one that went 'Low, low, sweet sings the cold night, outside the window, on the wind…' The woman at the gate yawned, then sat down on her stool. Soon she leaned against the bricks of the wall, put her head down, and slept deeply. Link watched her for a few minutes to make sure she wasn't going to wake up as he sneaked out. Rather than steal the key on her belt, and risk waking the gatekeeper, he played a song by the name of 'Quick, Quick, Lock and Pick.' It was a silly children's song, about breaking locks and stealing. He played it forcefully, making the high notes tinny and shrill. The gate swung open on its own, and he slipped through the narrow opening it provided. A second round of the lock-picking song closed and locked the gate behind him, leaving no trace of his mischief. With the sun rising in the west, there would be no shadows to rest in. Link checked his pack to make sure he was suitably equipped for travel in the desert. His turban was wrapped properly, to keep the sun from cooking his head, his clothes pale to reflect the light away. He had a day's worth of food in his bag, along with plenty of water. He put away his ocarina and replaced it with his compass.

Shouldering his pack, he struck out into the desert, heading for the sound of explosions.

It took two hours to reach the creator of the noises that had caused such a massive uproar in the Fortress. The Gerudo King seemed to be taking a break from his tantrum – he stood in the midst of a jagged sea of glass, some of it still molten, broad shoulders heaving with every panting breath he took.

Glass crunched under Link's sandaled feet as he approached, and the man whirled to face him. As he registered which this child was, his expression turned thunderous.

"Idiot boy!" He roared, furious, "I told no one to follow me! You could have been killed." Link ducked his head, ashamed. He gathered his courage, what little he had, and met his King's amber eyes.

"I don't mind." He confessed, "I deserve it. Rabiyu is dead because of me."

"…And how do you qualify for that, young man?" The Gerudo King sneered. The boy gulped.

"Rabiyu burned her feet when she saved Reya 'n me. The stirrups hurt her feet so she didn't use them. She fell off her horse 'cause she didn't use stirrups. So I killed her. Because I was stupid." That said, he shuffled his feet in the sand and glass gravel on the ground, waiting for a verdict. Ganondorf eyed him thoughtfully, lips pursed.

"You are correct in saying that you had a hand in my daughter's death, but not all." He said slowly. "So how do you plan to make it up to me and your people?" Link hesitated.

"I'll do… anything."

"Anything?" Link nodded, blue eyes unusually grave for a ten year old.

"Yeah."

"Would you serve the Gerudo, until your death?" The boy nodded quietly. "Would you go hungry so a girl might eat? Would you work all day and night to make things better for your people, for little thanks in return?"

"I would. Sir." The man's calculating gaze unnerved the boy.

"Then I will take you under my wing. You will learn what I teach you. You will obey me, with no questions but those that further your education. What will you do for me, now that Rabiyu cannot do it for me?"

"Anything." Link said decisively. Ganondorf nodded, with a pleased quirk to his broad lips.

"Then you are of use to me. There will be things you can do that no Gerudo girl or woman can, because you are of Hylian blood. It will not be easy. But you will find that you will do more than you could expect, when your women depend on your every move."

"Yes, sire." Ganondorf touched the top of Link's turban gently, pushing the child to his knees.

"Then swear to me, Link, your obedience and allegiance. Unwavering. Unyielding."

So Link knelt, and swore upon his blood and soul, to serve his King, until it came time to rule the throne after Ganondorf's life ended. The magic and relentless sun made their tanned skin sweat heavily, soaking into their fine clothing.

"And it is done," The King said gravely. "You are bound to me. Now come, you are a musician. Play a requiem for me."

Link pulled his ocarina out, and began the traditional, slow song for mourning. When Ganondorf recognized the tune, he sang along, his voice cracked with grief.

'_I grieve for you  
You leave me.  
It's so hard to move on.  
Still loving what's gone.  
They say life carries on.  
Carries on, and on,_

_And on, and on.'_

Link swayed where he stood, lost in music. He played song after song, until his fingers and lips cramped, until the sun dipped low in the east, until all feeling washed free of him and his King, leaving them empty and washed clean. Until they were numb.

With red, puffy eyes and voice hoarse from song and grief, the two males walked back to the Fortress, way lit by the setting sun.

Things changed for Link after that. Some of the more conservative women were wary of putting a Hylian lad on the Gerudo throne – but Ganondorf soothed them with promising to put Link through the Women's Ordeal and then the King's Ordeal when he was of age. This mollified the skeptics – the magic of the ordeal spells was unalterable and sacred. Link would have to prove himself just as every ruler had before him, and would have to marry a girl sired by Ganondorf to continue the line of Queens.

A few progressives among the women viewed the boy as a hero – he'd braved the desert and the King's magic to bring their lord and ruler back to them, releasing him from his grief.

Bound together by oath, Ganondorf and Link began to spend much of their time together. The man took Rabiyu's place as Link's mentor, using the time he'd once spent with his daughter with the boy instead. He began to teach Link how to lead, how to be diplomatic. He set Link to learning much of various Hylian cultures and history, as well as that of the Sheikah, Gorons, and Zora.

Ganondorf was a hard master, far more demanding than Rabiyu had ever been. There was little time for play. Link was up before sunrise to train with his lord, personally. There was an hour to eat breakfast, and then he was to practice in the training yards on his own. Nabooru had taken Aru and Reya under her tutelage, as Haati had elected to apprentice herself to a mosaic artist. Aru still practiced often with Link, though as time went on, he was getting dumped on his rear less. He was free to train after breakfast, but not to socialize or play – and Ganondorf always knew when Link had wasted time, somehow. He typically took a bath before lunch. After lunch, Link reported in to his lord for structured study – history, manners, mathematics and high culture. Sometimes Link worked with a musician the King had selected, learning songs, increasing his repertoire, and learning to write his own music. He would study these intellectual subjects until dinnertime, which he would spend with his family. Afterwards, he would spend his nights reading whatever piece of literature he had been assigned, which he had to be prepared to discuss the next day. He often fell asleep reading late into the night. It was a grueling pace for a boy of ten years old. Ganondorf did not make concessions for age. It forced Link to grow up quickly, and every time he made the slightest complaint, Ganondorf reminded him of his oath to the King – he'd promised _anything_. And that meant giving everything.

Childhood was over. It was time to grow up.

Tabiyu was taken before the Gerudo court of law, one month after Rabiyu's entombment. After one fatal run-in with a truth spell, she was found guilty, of conspiracy to kill the King and his heir, as well as murder, and treason. She was sentenced to death by beheading. Her two daughters were no longer eligible for the throne.

Strangely, Ganondorf kept himself separate from the whole sordid affair, as best he could.

"I must." He told Nabooru when she asked, "If I had my way, I would torture her, demean her, strip her of all privileges of class, then cut her tongue out and sell her to the Sheikah as a slave. I think I show remarkable restraint. It would be unseemly, besides, and a poor example for Link, and every girl that lives in the Fortress. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to see how your son is doing in his studies." He left a speechless Queen behind him.

Not a week later, Tabiya was quietly executed, dressed in green, traitor's colors amongst the Gerudo. Ganondorf watched from a distance, his face lit with a fierce and visceral pleasure.

**Chapter Fifteen: An Interlude, or A Discussion of Deities**

"Enough for the day." Nayru knocked over her chess king with a pale hand. "I'm tired of winning." Farore shook her head, quiet anger in almond-shaped jade eyes.

"As you always do." Nayru laughed at the cool remark, tossing pale blonde hair and straightening a flowing blue gown. Her fellow Goddess was more practically attired, in a simple green dress, sleeves cut away to reveal wiry, golden-skinned arms.

"Where is Din? I haven't seen her in a year." Nayru asked airily, and Farore sighed, carefully placing the fine ebony and ivory chess pieces into their proper drawers in the chess-table.

"She is arranging things for her part of the game. Things have become more delicate than she anticipated." The green-haired woman smiled, thinking of Din, with her dark black skin, and her fierce temper. Nayru got up and almost floated over to a plush divan, she was so light on her feet, selecting a fine comb from an ornate table, and began to comb out her long hair.

"Why the smile? Did she not steal one of your pawns?" Farore stood up and helped herself to some wine from a decanter, sipping slowly.

"One needs to be flexible about such things." She said patiently, "Link may very well come back to my control. If not, I have chosen a new champion to serve instead."

"Really? Who?"

"A boy by the name of Ferrick Keen."

"Ferrick? Not my Ferrick Rauros, dear. He's mine. Off limits." Nayru said, blue-purple eyes intent.

"No, not your Light mage." Farore said absently, going to the window and looking out. Outside their beautiful, unearthly dwelling the sky was bright silver, rippling with opalescent rainbow lights. When they did not walk Hyrule in mortal disguise, the three Goddesses lived in the Sacred Realm observing and playing games with the people who worshiped them. Dully, Farore longed for cornflower skies, white sand and teal ocean. But no. That was Port Bluewater, half a world away, and thousands of years ago. Before she and her 'sisters' led a thousand people to the safety of Hyrule, far from the wars that were devouring the planet. Before the Mad God who'd created the world had made the three powerful woman-mages Goddesses themselves to rule Hyrule. But he'd played a trick on the three, and the Hylians, Sheikah and Gerudo, each the favored race of one of the Triad, had warred with each other since the holy three had left their followers to dwell in the Sacred Realm.

It wasn't always good to be a God, Farore thought. When Din was in one of her tempers, what she might do was terrifying. Nayru had always coveted intelligence and knowledge, but she'd turned arrogant and prideful. Now that the Goddess of Wisdom, (Wisdom, hah!) could scry anything in Hyrule, she'd lost the observant nature that had made her magnificent in the beginning. Now much of the wisdom she dispensed was far from advisable. As for Farore, well, it was hard to be courageous when one was immortal and wielded powers beyond mortal ken. She was lonely here, stuck listening to Nayru's schemes and typical elvish racism, and watching Din drift away on a tide of rage and plans for revenge.

"Good," Nayru was saying, "He's mine again, now that that Gerudo wench is dead. He'd almost gone to Din's side." Farore closed her eyes, painfully.

"How can you say that? He's just been widowed."

"Ha! You think I'd have let him ruin his glorious future and run away with one of Din's whores? No, I have plans for him. It was all too easy to remove that wench from the situation."

"You took a direct part in it?"

"Yes. It seems money can buy anything, these days."

The green-haired woman huffed in disgust.

"That's disgusting. I can't believe you actually-"

"What? Did my part to play the game? You are just as guilty as I." Farore sighed, and changed the topic.

"Well I have plans too. Ferrick is a common Hylian name, besides. My new champion, Ferrick Keen, is soldier-bred. He's only a few years older than Link of the Gerudos, so he will fit my timeline nicely." Nayru scrunched her fine-boned nose as she mentally searched for knowledge about one young Ferrick Keen. Her doe-like eyes flew open in surprise.

"You want a rape-gotten runt who's been raised by polygamists? And ugly to boot." She added. Farore bit her lip and kept her anger quiet. She had to remember that elves were born with superiority complexes. Nayru couldn't help it – racism was in her blood, Goddess or not. "You did well with your first choice – that Link. Smart, handsome (or he will be), strong, and magically gifted. Though did you have to choose a commoner? Low-blood always does tell. And he's Hylian. The rules state our champions must be one of our chosen races."

"He has some Sheikah blood in him, buried deep." Farore retorted. Nayru snorted.

"Those Sheikah are nothing like you, Shadow-Walker. They're practically Hylians."

"Practically human, you mean. What would have me do? Let them live a thirty-year lifespan, never sleeping to make up for it? The Mad God lived up to his name when he made the Shadow-Walkers. Were it not for immortality, I should have been dead not three years after the creation of Hyrule."

"Don't blasphemise him. Magical barrier or not, you don't know if he can hear." Nayru admonished, voice hushed.

"Just so." Farore agreed. "Do you truly intend to start the cycle of the Cataclysm yet again? Must we put the country through it once more?"

"You needn't complain. Your foreigner pawn Thereo won it the last truly glorious cycle, as I recall."

"Yes, and a great many lost their lives to our games."

"Everyone dies." The Goddess of Wisdom dismissed. "Some sooner than others. At least they were a part of something greater than their sordid, ordinary lives. Now, enough talk. I must ready my own pawns." The Goddess of Courage sighed.

"Fine. When are we to begin the new cycle?"

"In two years. Now I really must leave. Zelda will need strengthening if she is to perform well." The taller woman flicked her fingers and disappeared in a burst of blue light and violet scent.

_Showoff_, Farore thought. And then she remembered she was alone once more.

The one thing Farore was frightened of was silence. A silly fear, as silence could not kill. But perhaps it was the right thing for a Goddess to fear, as nothing could kill her. She sighed, a waved at a small collection of musical instruments hanging on the far side of the spacious room. They rose into the air and began to play, as if invisible musicians were performing.

Her fears relieved, Farore settled herself in front of the Game Table. It was circular, and represented a miniature model of the Hyrulean landscape. Key points such as the Barrier Temples, Temple of Time, and leylines were clearly marked. Sitting on a small side table were the six figurines that represented the six races of Hyrule.

When Farore, Din and Nayru were made Goddesses, the Mad God who reigned over the world informed them that he would not stand for duplicates of the races he'd created to reside in Hyrule – they would have to alter the thousand-strong refugees that had followed the three women to the promised land. Most had been elves, humans and Shadow-Walkers (a race of humanoid beings who never slept and only lived for thirty years, but were capable of incredible feats of strength and magic). But there were also the war-torn remains of three powerful Shapeshifting tribes; the Mountain Skins, the Deep Fishes, and the Tall Trees. Changing the racial nature of each race was a massive undertaking, so each Goddess had chosen a race and a Shapeshifting tribe to alter.

An elf herself, Nayru chose the elves, and shortened their lifespan and made their bones and immune systems stronger, changing them into Hylians, who established themselves in the forests of Northern Hyrule and on the plains. She'd let the Deep Fish tribe choose a permanent shape, and they had decided to become humanoid fishes. The Zora race had been born from the Deep Fishes.

Din had taken the humans and settled them in the shores of Lake Hylia, granting them the ability to never be lost, and making them more fertile. Din renamed the humans she'd changed the Gerudo race. She too had originally a human. Her chosen tribe, the Mountain Skins, became living rock, transforming into Gorons.

Formerly a Shadow-Walker, Farore had stripped her fellow people of much of their incredible powers in exchange for a longer life and the ability to sleep, but they retained a certain nocturnal affinity, and named themselves the Sheikah. They settled on the foothills of Death Mountain, and in the Curled Backbone mountain range that guarded the northernmost border of Hyrule. The Tall Tree tribe was more difficult. They wished to become trees, which Farore thought was inadvisable, but they insisted. So the Deku race was created. They were born mobile – as Deku Shrubs – hatching from seeds. Once they reached their full maturity they planted themselves in an ideal location and grew into massive trees. These tree beings communicated through root systems. After a century of treehood, they became mobile again, in a way. They manifested themselves in the physical form of children, becoming tree and child at the same time, entertaining themselves with play, food, and imagination. These tree-children called themselves Kokiri.

And so the six races of Hyrule were born.

Farore set the figurines down gently and disappeared from the mystical dwelling, quietly and without the drama Nayru added to her teleportation, heading for a small town in northern Hyrule called Patcheem.

It was time to set her plans in action. In two years the latest Cataclysm would occur in Hyrule once more. Until then, there was a lot of work to be done.

**Chapter Sixteen: Of Hyrule**

"_It's the time of turning and there's something stirring outside  
It's the time of turning and the old world's falling  
Nothing you can do can stop the next emerging  
Time of the turning and we'd better learn to say our goodbyes"_

~ Time of the Turning – Peter Gabriel

Link and Ganondorf were glad to get out of Parchen as soon as they could. The two males were alone, no guards to hinder their journey. They packed up before dawn, supplies for the next few days already purchased the day before. Ganondorf helped Link pack up the wagon, before moving on to ready his two mares, Sunfire and Fanna, and harness them to the wooden vehicle. Both steeds were beautiful animals, desert-bred. They were large, sturdy creatures, cold bloods bred for strength and endurance, not the fine-boned racers prized by the Hylians. Nevertheless, the inn's stableboy watched enviously from a corner of the stable

It was perhaps a year after the signing of the Rabiyu Accord. To recognize the first anniversary, and to tie the new Gerudo Province to the rest of Hyrule, Link was to live at the Hylian capital for a few years. There he would be taught with other noble sons, and prepare for his future as the heir to the Gerudo throne. Link had taken the news quietly and gravely, as was his way these days. He'd nodded, and gone on with his history lesson. He'd told his family after dinner, and gone out to the courtyard for extra practice with his glaive. Reya had taken it hard, while Aya and Dinah were awed and a little shocked. Only Nabooru was not surprised – Ganondorf had sought her opinion and approval early on.

Ganondorf checked the wagon's wheels and axles, and finally declared himself satisfied. The King climbed onto the front seat next to Link, and whistled at the horses to move.

Soon Parchen was a large blot fading in the distance, all of the central steppes laid out before them. As they traveled, Ganondorf quizzed the boy about lower-class Hylian customs that had made their way into the upper-class. It was customary to knock thrice on a doorway once the door was open, to ward off bad luck. Salt should never be thrown over the shoulder, nor used to melt ice in the winter. And fingers were snapped when one disagreed with a point raised in discussion, rather than simply saying so, as was Gerudo custom.

There were no guards traveling with them. Times were tight in the Gerudo Province and in Drought Country. It was early spring – the winter had been long in the north and east, so food was scarce. Few could be spared to guard, not when everyone had to work in mines, workshops or factories in order to raise enough money to keep the Gerudos from starving. Now a province, the Hylians were obligated to send aid, but things were tough all over, and the newly born province was far away. Ganondorf and Link would have preferred to stay home and help, but diplomacy had to be maintained to ensure aid was sent. Therefore, the two males traveled alone.

Their cheeks were hollow with past hunger. The Gerudo were used to the starving times – it was the reason why everyone ate at the Food Court, letting professional cooks make the food rather than individuals. It was easier to ration food that way. Aid from the Hylians had been a welcome prospect, but for the results of one bringing of such aid.

Tragically, a few well-snails had traveled on Hylian food wagons to the Fortress, and made their way to one of the wells in the residential Fortress, and poisoned the water supply for much of the area. Twenty-three women and children had died before the well could be purified. For a population of a thousand, twenty-three was a massive blow. Well-snails were a deadly pest, eating purification spells laid in the shaft and mortar of wells. After devouring the magic, they passed the magic on in their noxious waste, spreading terrible toxins in the befouled water. Link's agemate Sooru had been one of the victims, as was chief of the guard, Joruya. Ganondorf had raged for a week, sure the snails had been brought on purpose. His wife Nabooru had done her best, calmed him down before he broke anything irreplaceable, and sent him out of the Fortress into the Wasteland to enlarge what the women now called the 'Glass Oasis.' These outbursts from the King were increasing in frequency, and the inhabitants of the Fortress were accustomed to explosions in the night by now. To make up for their own men's folly, extra aid was promised to the Gerudos by the Hylian court.

Now, riding across the western steppes, Ganondorf sighed and turned his attention back to his pupil.

"How do Hylians salute their betters?" He quizzed. Link nodded.

"Like this, sir." He fisted his right hand, brought it up to kiss the knuckles, and laid his palm flat over his heart as he bowed to his King.

"Very good. Now, list each of the Hylian provinces, including ours, and name the top three or four exports of each area." The boy blinked thoughtfully, thinking carefully.

"Gerudo Province; glass, silk, pigment, and horses." He recited dutifully "Drought Country; gemstones, sandstone, sheep and goat products. The Province of Arryn; steel, coni… coniferous lumber, gold, and nuts."

"Actually, the top export of Arryn is mage supplies grown or crafted directly over leylines." Ganondorf corrected gently.

"Oh. Okay. Er… Province of the Crown; coinage, high quality crafted goods, tin and chalk."

"Good." The man approved.

"Mountain Province; Goron goods, root vegetables, mountain herbs, poppies. Rainfall Province; fish, coffee, tobacco, and grain. Plains Province; grain, dairy, livestock, horses. Province of Imally; iron, hardwood lumber, liquor, fur, manufactured goods. Lakeland Province; fruit, grain, vegetables, and silver. And um, Province of Lake Hylia; seafood, wine, medicine, fruit and grain."

"Very good. Now, what is the correct way to begin a meal, in the tradition of the Hylian High Court, when the King is present…?"

And so their conversation went for most of the day. They ate lunch and dinner on the road, not bothering to stop except to rest the horses and let them graze midway through the day.

They set up camp an hour before sunset, moving off the road to the shelter of a grove of trees. Link watched as Ganondorf carefully set up barrier and protection spells, as well as an alarm spell to wake them if anyone approached. When Ganondorf announced it was bedtime, Link rolled out his bedroll on a patch of soft grass, curled up under the comfort of his warm blankets and the reassuring security of his light stone, and slept deeply. His night was a rare, dreamless one, free of his usual nightmares of darkness or helplessness.

The moons moved across the sky, the planet called Vanity turned inexorably beneath all its sleepers, wheeling its way around the sun through the starry vacuum of space. Far away, a world called Earth slept too, the world from whence all the peoples of Vanity had come some millennia ago.

For all his maturity, Link was still eleven, and furthermore, growing like a weed. So once Ganondorf woke him up at dawn to pack up camp, the King fed the boy and let him nap in the back of the covered wagon, cushioned by bags of clothing and silks meant for the Queen and Crown Princess, as well as the court ladies the Queen favored.

Link woke somewhere around ten, and crawled over the boxes of provisions and settled onto the driver's bench. He offered a packet of dried fruit leather to his mentor, as well as a canteen of lukewarm tea. Ganondorf accepted the refreshments gratefully. The wagon was in the typical Hylian style, rectangular in shape for both wagon bed and frame. The roof was supported by vertical beams rising from the deep wagon bed, the tin roof waterproofing the vehicle, curved just enough to shed rain easily. The tin was covered in undyed canvas to shed heat. The sides of the wagon cover were sturdy canvas, nailed to the sides of the frame and the edge of the wagon bed. Here and there were gaps in the fabric to provide light and ventilation. There was a bench, sheltered by the roof, in front to drive the two horses that pulled the vehicle. Spells carved into the wood made the wagon light enough to only require two horses to draw it.

The wagon carried many things. Link's clothes and weapons, his study materials and favorite books. Ganondorf had packed enough of his own possessions for the journey and the month-long stay at the Capitol. The wagon carried the provisions needed for the two week journey from the Fortress to the Capitol. There were books on Gerudo culture, history, and traditional stories for the Crown Princess, who was supposedly a little too intellectual to be properly feminine by Hylian nobility's standards. There were silks, in satin, batik, and fine veils, fine jewelry, much of it crafted by Aya, the King's sister-in-law. There were jars and jars of spices, bundles of pigment, finely hammered copper creations, and elaborate fantasies of glass. To prevent theft, if anyone besides Link or Ganondorf tried to remove the goods from the wagon, they would be knocked unconscious by a spell the older man had cast. Together these goods represented a fortune in traditional Gerudo products, and would be given to the Hylian King to show the Gerudo's commitment to peace, but also to buy goodwill.

Later, Ganondorf gently nudged Link's knee to get his attention out of the book he was reading – _The Fine and Noble Historie of the Royale Hyrule Dynasty._

"There, my boy, is Mudwater, not an hour away." The man said, pointing to the looming shape sitting bodily on the near edge of the horizon. "An unappealing name for a far more charming city. Every building there is made of sandstone, in shades of white, gold, orange, pink and red. It is a beautiful sight." Sure enough, within forty-five minutes, they were at the open gates of the massive fortified town. The walls of the capital of Drought Country were like the desert sunset captured in stone, built of great blocks of warm-toned sandstone.

Rather than insist on the locals greet them with fanfare and bended knee, the King of the Gerudos and his heir entered town quietly and without fuss. This low-maintenance behavior had already endeared the Drought Country gentry to the leader of the new, neighboring province. The gatekeeper noted their names, status, and intentions for entering the town down on his records tablet. He called for his assistant, a younger man, who he asked to take his place. The gatekeeper, graying and scruffy, bowed and saluted Ganondorf.

"Welcome to Mudwater, my lord Duke Ganondorf." The ruler of each Province was entitled Duke of the province. "It is not yet four past noon. As you plan to leave in two days, would you care for a tour of the city? I know the place well, my lord." He smiled and patted his pocket discreetly. Ganondorf nodded in agreement, and the gatekeeper's smile widened. The King of the Gerudos had silently agreed to pay the man for his efforts. Link didn't notice, entranced by the bustling city.

"What is your name, Master Gatekeeper?" Ganondorf inquired, tilting his head in query.

"Nerodis Dnighy, my lord." The man said deferentially. He pronounced his surname 'Din-nyee-hee.'

"Your assistant is to fill your duties?" Ganondorf asked, and the scrawny gatekeeper nodded.

"Yes, my lord. He needs to learn to take charge sooner rather than later, if you get my drift, sir."

"Indeed. Come with us then, Master Nerodis. I have visited here before, but I confess my visit was too brief to discover the character of the city. You shall have to assist me and my boy in this matter."

"I will, sir!" Nerodis bowed again and climbed onto the wagon bench next to Link. Ganondorf flicked the reins and sent the pair of horses trotting down the orange cobbled road. Nerodis introduced himself to Link cheerfully.

"Hullo, my young lord! Welcome to the lovely city of Mudwater. We're the province-seat of Drought Country, and a proper duchy at that. The honorable Duke Benyamin of Mudwater lives in that yon castle over there." Nerodis nodded his head at the castle rising in the center of the city, planted on the crown of a steep hill that swelled up from the flat steppe.

The castle was built sturdy and squat – its beauty came not from its design but its color – it had been built, painstakingly, with alternating blocks of white and golden sandstone. From the fattest turret flew two flags – the flag of the ruling family of Drought Country, a long-tailed meadowlark with a dark green locust in one claw, set on a field of yellow-green. The second flag was that of the Hylian Royal Family – a golden Triforce and crimson phoenix emblazoned on royal blue, bordered in gold. A brisk wind flew over the city walls, and over the central hill of the city, making the flags snap in the breeze.

Nerodis pointed out the sights as they drove through the streets. This eatery had been here since before the city had existed, back when there was only the castle on the hill – it had been an inn in those days. This section of town had burned to the ground, and was rebuilt on a grander scale. That corner had witnessed a brutal murder years ago, in daylight for all to see.

"Best shoes in the city in that shop, and I know the man who works that smithy, fine fellow. Never go into that place, the food is passable but the booze is piss-poor. Oh! pardon my language, my lords." He covered himself swiftly, gesturing to a brightly painted alehouse that Ganondorf thought had looked welcoming. "Now as for that shrine, why…" Link let the man's words fade into a droning murmur, blue eyes devouring the sights, the stone buildings in all their colors.

Soon the wagon reached the inn that was their destination. Nerodis joined the stable hands in unhitching the horses and bringing in the travel bags to the lord's rooms once Link and Ganondorf had taken them from the back of the wagon.

Once they had stored their belongings, Nerodis took Link and Ganondorf on foot around the city, chattering away as they walked. He was a font of information and local color.

When lunchtime rolled around, the gatekeeper sat his noble charges on the long flight of steps to a great cathedral, the solid structure built entirely out of sandstone that was pale mauve-pink with a creamy swirl of lily white. He disappeared to find a meal for them, with Ganondorf's leave. The two Gerudo sat and surveyed the large market square that the church overlooked, what Nerodis had said was the very heart of the city. There was the city guild building across the square, proud and resplendent in red stone. To the left was the long, winding paved road that led uphill to the Duke's castle. On the right stood two buildings - the regal white façade of the city courts, and the golden blocks of Mudwater's University. The University had a tall clock tower – all sixteen hours were elegant, aged copper numbers, the clock hands the same delicate pale green. Merchants sold their wares in covered stalls in the square, calling out their inventories at passersby.

Nerodis returned balancing a tray of food. Wiry sinews flexed in his legs as he climbed the stairs to his charges, shins bared by faded breeches. Carefully and quite aware of his lower status, Nerodis sat one step lower than Link and Ganondorf. He set the tray down and pulled the covering cloth off, revealing the meal. There were two wooden bowls of rabbit stew, long strips of herb flatbread, fried vegetables and a spicy yogurt sauce to dip them in, a flask of milk for Link, and a mug of ale for the Gerudo King. There was a short glass of clear liquid which Nerodis took for himself, gulping it down and smacking his lips after. Hungry from their morning of travel and long walk through the city, the two Gerudo dug in. The rabbit stew was quite rich – the chucks of meat were tender, the pieces of potato, parsnip, and carrot had been seasoned and roasted before being added to the pot. The gravy tasted faintly of garlic and onion, and wine added richness to the thick liquid. They ate with the eating-sticks most of Southern Hyrule ate with – Northern flatware was not to be trusted to scruffy gatekeepers like Nerodis, even if he claimed to be serving a great lord, Nerodis said apologetically. The two Gerudo claimed it was fine, and Nerodis relaxed, watching them carefully but deferentially.

"Should I stay silent, my lords, and let you enjoy your meal unbothered, or shall I provide entertainment?"

"Keep talking, please." Link said, taking a long drink of milk. Ganondorf took a sip of his ale, then hummed in pleasure when it met his standards.

"I will second that." The older Gerudo said.

"Very good, my lords. Well then! Your stew and bread came from a little tavern called Snake in the Grass, as did my lord's ale. Finest food in the city, after the food on Duke Benyamin's table, which I will likely never taste, so it's just as well. Their liquor is second only to that out of Imally. The veggies and dip are a local specialty, and the best of it comes from tiny little place in a side alley, doesn't even have a name but we of Mudwater call it Hole-in-the-Wall." The fried vegetables turned out to be zucchini, eggplant, squash, and onion, not over-salted in the slightest. The yogurt dip was sharp with pepper, cilantro, and ground hot-thorn seeds. Link liked it, eating voraciously. As he ate, Nerodis fed his mind as well.

"Mudwater was built by the Duke's forefathers, to defend the local sandstone quarries and the nearby villages of Pastern, Upment, Haltierty, and Hallonetment. Fire spirits came here from the fires of the Curled Backbone Range, that's why we have so many hot springs in the area. In the center of town you'll find the Boiling Mire – it's a lake of mud, really, but it boils like a full pot on the fire. Mudwater gets its name from the Mire, y'see. Mud taken from the Mire has special healing properties. It was our Lady Miralie of Haltierty who discovered their powers. She was a holy woman who lived in these parts about two hundred years ago, and was much loved by the Goddesses. A natural healer, her. A miracle worker. That great cathedral over there was built in her name, and the Lady's bones are cared for there by the priests and priestesses. We get pilgrims from all over seeking healings from the mud and from what is left, beyond the grave, of our Lady's tender powers."

"Fascinating." Ganondorf said quietly after he swallowed his mouthful. "I would like to see this Boiling Mire, as well as the cathedral whose steps we are sitting on. I believe it would be a fine learning experience for Link."

"Yessir. Second worship starts in an hour, so it would be better to go into the Church of Our Lady Miralie of Haltierty first."

"Very well, then." Ganondorf approved. There was a loud slurping sound from Link, who was greedily drinking the last of the rabbit stew. Ganondorf ate the remaining crumbs of the tender flatbread and moved on to his vegetables. The dish was a delicious mix of texture, temperature, and flavor. The cool yogurt contrasted with the hot fried vegetables, as did the creaminess of the dip, the crispy crunch of the fried outside and soft, hot vegetable inside. The Gerudo King made a pleased sound in his throat as he ate. Link surreptitiously stole some pieces of fried zucchini with sneaky eating-sticks. Ganondorf let him get away with it this time – usually he would comment on technique to help the boy improve his skills in theft, but not today.

At last the two Gerudo were finished with their meal. Nerodis took the plates, bowls and utensils, and returned them to the pub he'd gotten them from. Ganondorf and Link quietly discussed the clothes of passersby, the various fashions of Northern and Southern Hyrule, and that of Drought Country. As they talked, some unusually bold sparrows flew down and pecked at the crumbs on the ground, left over from the meal. With loud peeps, the birds called their fellows to the small feast.

Nerodis came trotting back eventually, and led his charges into the soaring heights of the Miralie Cathedral.

The inside was made of the same soft pink and white stone as the exterior. The vaulted ceiling loomed overhead. The floor was paved in dark piebald granite of heavy grey and rose pink, polished to a high shine. Flecks of mica in the stone floor glittered in the light that shone through high stained glass windows, which depicted the flora and fauna of the steppes in shades of amber, green, and blue.

Nerodis spoke in hushed voice of the history of the church – How the Lady Miralie had been a commoner, and a healer, seven hundred years ago. She single-handedly guided the Mudwater area through a nasty bout of cholera and a plague of leprosy. After living a long, fruitful life, she died in her bed, surrounded by her second husband and horde of children. Miralie of Haltierty had been made nobility after her death, and her oldest son became a Baron. Her noble descendants had long since married into Lark House, the family that ruled Drought Country. The Lady Miralie was popular amongst the common people, so six hundred years ago, one of the Dukes of Mudwater had commissioned the cathedral to be built in the Lady's name. The pink and cream sandstone was local, the granite flooring brought from the Province of Arryn, just to the north of Drought Country.

The pews that lined each side of the wide aisle were white marble. Up front, the clerics, both priests and priestess, were preparing incense and candles for the second worship of the day. The Goddesses required Hylians to worship thrice a day, and Highday was to be kept holy by a lack of work, and daylong attendance to a local church service. Every town of any worth had a church with a tall bell tower, so the bell that called the people to prayer could be heard, ringing from the local church in every town in Hyrule. The altar, on its high dais in the Miralie Cathedral, was a massive block of pink sandstone, covered by a white altar-cloth embroidered with copper thread.

Nerodis led Link and Ganondorf up a side aisle. Across the sanctuary, on the far side of the altar stood the traditional statue of the three Goddesses raising the Triforce up in triumph. On the near side of the altar there was a sculpture of lesser beauty but greater detail. The subject was a pug-nosed woman, with corkscrew-curly hair. Kindly wrinkles framed eyes that squinted slightly. In her left hand she held a glass jar filled with mud – likely mud taken from the Mire of Mudwater. Her right hand was raised in either greeting or in blessing. Tiger's eye inlays served for golden-brown irises, her simple dress and cloak were both painted a delicate petal-pink.

"Always one for pink, Our Lady was. Never seen wearing any other color." Nerodis murmured, his voice hushed with respect. "I saw you were wonderin' why the church is all in pink. It became her symbol. We of the lower status in the city, drink vodka and pomegranate juice, mixed, on her feast day. Pink for the Pink Lady." The middle-aged man scratched his grey, scruffy bearded neck absently. "I was wondering, my Lords." He paused. Ganondorf grew impatient.

"Yes? Wondering what?" He prompted.

"Could we stay in here during Second Worship? It's only I've never seen the rituals during a normal non-Highday Worship before, and if I were alone or with those of my class, them priests would kick me or us out sooner than you could say… well, you know." Ganondorf looked outraged, Link disbelieving.

"They would remove a believer from a place of worship merely based on class?" The dark-skinned man wondered, and Nerodis nodded.

"They would rightly do so, my Lord. Too many bottom feeders pollute their crystal waters, or that's about what they might think. They won't remove you though, sir. You are obviously from up higher."

"We are wearing simple traveler's clothes – worn ones."

"Yes, but you look like a king wearing them clothes." Nerodis pointed out stubbornly. "It's the dignity, sir. You wear it like some men wear one of them plumed hats I hear are big up North." Ganondorf smiled thinly.

"If this is true, then by all means, we will stay for your second worship."

"Thank you, sir." Ganondorf and Nerodis jumped as the massive bells in the cathedral's bell tower were struck, ringing in deafening tones that vibrated through the sanctuary. Link was not surprised – in the hushed silences of every part of the church he'd heard the bell ringer's boots stamping up the back stairs not long ago. He'd also heard the bell ringer grunt as he heaved on the bell's rope, in concert with the groan of pulley supports. As he learned more and more about his magic, mostly through trial and error, Link had discovered two new talents – incredibly sharp hearing, and an uncanny ability to mimic sounds and voices, to the hilaria of his family.

Upon hearing the bell, Nerodis sank into a deep bow, knees, forehead and open palms pressed to the ground. Up by the altar, one of the clerics took out a tiny mallet and rung a small chime, over and over. A second priest lit a stick of incense and carefully waved it through the air. The priestess sifted a blue silk scarf through her silver-clawed hands. The three's movements were synchronized, keeping a rhythm that Link let himself sway to as he watched.

No prayers were said, no praise spoken. With his superior hearing, Link heard what Ganondorf had not – once the bells stopped ringing, Nerodis' breath hitched, then his respiration cycle slowed significantly. If Link had been able to see the gatekeeper's face, he would have seen Nerodis' brow creased in concentration. Link stepped forward, thinking to help the gatekeeper and get him breathing properly. Ganondorf raised a hand, and the boy held himself in check and stayed where he was standing. Spending so much time with the king had attuned him to the subtlest of signals the man might make.

After ten minutes prone on the floor, Nerodis folded himself up and stood, breathing normally once more.

"Thank you, my lords. It was a great honor you just did me."

"You are welcome, then." Ganondorf said gravely.

"Master Nerodis," Link wondered quietly, "Why were you breathing so strangely?" The graying man turned a look of puzzlement on the young boy.

"Haven't you ever – no," Nerodis said, catching himself before he could offend, "Never mind. It was prayer-breathing. The Goddesses must be worshipped in silence. Thought pollutes prayer, or so the priests say. When we pray we think only of our breath, and the pattern of the prayer-breathing. How is it that you and your kin serve the Goddesses, my young lord?"

"We burn incense, candles and sweetgrass resin at shrines. On holy days the Fortress says prayers over locusts. We ask Din for strength and kindness, for a good year, so the Gerudo don't starve. The locusts are fed to a wild swallow. The swallow is released, so it can fly our prayers up to Din." Link shrugged. "That's what we do to pray."

"Very interesting, my Lord." The gatekeeper said politely. He was really thinking how strange it was, for someone not to know what prayer-breathing was. Every Hylian in Hyrule, north or south, prayed in this manner thrice a day. How could they not know? But he knew better than to voice such opinions. Knew his place, more like. "Anyway," Nerodis said smoothly, "That's the Cathedral. The Mire is halfway across the inner city, and it's quite a walk from here." Ganondorf nodded.

"Then we should leave now. Link, are you satisfied with what you've learned from this church?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Come then, Master Nerodis, take us to the Mire of Mudwater." Nerodis wiped his hand over his mouth, then turned to go.

"Very good, my Lord." He said with a quick dip of a bow, "Come this way, good sirs." Nerodis gestured for the two Gerudo to follow him. Link and Ganondorf followed the gatekeeper out of the still, sacred silence of the Miralie Cathedral, and into the harsh sunlight of midday.

Chapter Seventeen: Of Muddy Waters

The walk to the Mire was long. Link and Ganondorf trailed after Nerodis, the scrawny, scruffy gatekeeper, through the busier part of Mudwater. In the middle of an open square, roiled a seething lake of dark mud. Even from the edge of the square they could hear the bubbles popping, wet _shlups_ as superheated air escaped out of the mud. The fumes themselves smelled horrendous, like fish. There was a fence, a safe distance away from the edge of the edge of the boiling Mire.

Link edged up to the fence. The wind turned from south-easterly to easterly, blowing the hot steam from the Mire right into his face. The boy made a face – it smelled bad, but at least it smelt of fish, and not of rotting fish, as the Gerudo fisheries had when he had visited them a year before.

Nerodis fetched the local expert on the Mire, a man who was paid by the city to educate those who came to see the Mire. When Link was bored, Nerodis showed the boy few local shops, just across the road, that sold items of the Mire. Link looked through the books available, and settled on buying a thick pamphlet on the properties of the Mire mud, and a thinly bound book on the history of the city. These he purchased with rupees from his coin pouch. A small jar of Mire mud caught his eye – and he bought that too.

"Do you think a girl my age would like this?" The preteen asked, hefting the jar in query. Nerodis considered it.

"Girls usually don't like dirt – but this mud is special – good for skin ailments, especially rashes and the like. Even works on leprosy, or so I hear. Maybe this girl could use it when she gets spotty – as she likely will when she hits her teens. Who are you thinking of, lad? Is it an arranged marriage?" Link grinned crookedly. Nerodis couldn't know he'd one day act as Ganondorf now did, siring many Gerudo daughters. That was far away, though, and he really wasn't interested in girls yet, except as friends. Instead he brushed auburn bangs out of his face and turned to the scrawny gatekeeper.

"No. I'm not engaged. King Ganondorf is sending me to the Capitol to learn with the other noble boys. I figured I'd get something personally for Princess Zelda, since we're going to meet her. Girls like to be given thoughtful gifts – I should know." He said with a smirk, and Nerodis grinned right back at him.

"Seeing as your race is all women anyway, hm? I know how it is – I'm the twelfth of twelve, and nine sisters. We were born to a wealthy merchants, but by the time my Pop got done with their dowries, there weren't nothing left for me. So a gatekeeper I'll stay, with my wife and my own daughters." Nerodis whistled to himself. "The Crown Princess herself! I've been meeting all these big names, but to-! Naotu will never let me hear the end of it, mute or not!"

Link froze. He cocked his head in thought, and turned to Nerodis.

"This Naotu… Is she a Gerudo?" Nerodis blinked down at the boy.

"Why yes, so she is. Like my own daughter, she is. Why?" The light in Link's eyes dimmed.

"She was my sister's mother. But she ran away. Ganondorf will want to know. Stay here, please." The Gerudo boy left before Nerodis could reply, heading for the king, who was finished listening to the local Mire expert and was now leaning against the fence around the boiling mud lake, waiting for his appointed heir and local guide to return.

Polite or not, Nerodis knew he had been given an order, and so he stayed where he was. Uneasy, and wondering what these nobles - admittedly pleasant, respectful ones, but nobles nonetheless – wanted with a woman he'd come to see as part of the family.

The tall Gerudo had to bend down to let Link whisper in his ear. Several emotions passed over the man's face as Nerodis watched anxiously. And then the king's face settled into stillness, a careful façade. He put a gentle hand on his heir's shoulder, then strode over to the shop Link had left the gatekeeper in.

"How did you meet her, Master Nerodis?" Ganondorf asked without preamble.

"Naotu, you mean, my lord. When my oldest girl Delia married, we had a room free in our home, so we rented it out. The only offer was this mute Gerudo girl. We learned that she'd been exiled by her people." Nerodis gave the king a meaningful look, which the larger man ignored. "She married a man, but chose poorly. She told us he blamed her for his loss of reputation, and went into debt because of his love for the dice. He tried to make her sell herself for money, and when she refused he cut out her tongue and ended the marriage." Ganondorf sucked in a breath, but let Nerodis finish. "She took work as a maid, and then a weaver when her employer fired her when she caught him sleeping around, twice. She cannot speak, but carries a slate tablet and chalk with her wherever she goes. By my reckoning, she's been with us for… at least fifteen years. How do you know her, my Lord? And why was she exiled from your race?"

"I never exiled her – she did that herself. I was sixteen when I met her, and I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the Fortress. Naotu was two years older than I, and she had not passed the Woman's Ordeal, but I ignored that, though it meant a weakness of character. She was to be my maid, carrying messages, fetching drinks and tidying up my rooms. I courted her, though she was shy, but I could not marry her – as I could only marry the woman who could rule alongside me, but that didn't mean I couldn't love her. She gave birth to my firstborn, my heir Rabiyu. I wanted her to live in my rooms, as the mother of the next Queen, but after I told her of my plans, she packed her few things and left. I raised our daughter myself. I have not seen nor heard of Naotu since."

Nerodis swallowed. "Maybe she might not want to see you then, if that is her story."

Ganondorf sighed and rubbed one of his temples.

"She was Rabiyu's mother. And now Rabiyu is dead. At least give me the dignity to tell her that in person." Nerodis looked aghast.

"If that's the case, she must see you! But not today. She works until sunset every day. But tomorrow is Highday, so she could see you in the morning, after First Worship and before High Worship."

"Very well. Where do you live? I would prefer to let her know in a place where she feels safe."

Nerodis gave Ganondorf the address, and then begged dismissal, as he needed to return to the post he should have been at all along. The king gave it to him graciously, and the graying man left hurriedly, after bowing. He would receive his payment for his guidance a day later, so he couldn't back out on showing the Gerudos Naotu.

Link and Ganondorf walked back to their lodgings slowly, with detours to chase birds in the squares along the way. They settled into their rooms and packed their purchases from the Mire, and sent a message to the Duke in his castle, letting him know one of his peers (Ganondorf) was visiting the city for a short period.

Though it had been an eventful day, it was not yet four in the afternoon. Sunset was not until ten, so they poured themselves refreshing mugs of iced peppermint tea, very welcome after the dust of the city streets.

Ganondorf was explaining to Link the political ramifications of the cultural split between North and South Hyrule when someone scratched at the door. The Gerudo King bid them enter, and the door opened to reveal their messenger. Apparently the Duke Benyamin wished for Ganondorf and his heir to dine with him that very evening, at the castle on the hill.

So the pair went down to the wagon to pull out clothes they had packed for the benefit of the Hylian King's High Court. The cut of the clothes were fine, made to the sensibilities of Hylian men's fashion. But both Ganondorf and Link had cut the line at pleated breeches with hose, foppish loose shirts with wide open necklines, and overlarge codpieces, all styles very popular in the North. Rather than chase the latest fad, the two male Gerudos would be dressed in a classic fusion of Southern and Gerudo styles. Light weight cloth, kept simple, long-sleeved shirts, loose trousers, and a tunic over the shirt. Mostly in Gerudo colors, and enough intricate, traditional Gerudo embroidery to satisfy any over-decorated Northerner.

The selected garments were laid out on Ganondorf's bed, and then he and his pupil retreated to the sofa in the main room, for another round of iced mint tea.

"Why do all the Dukes want to meet you?" Link wondered into his mug, rolling it carefully between his palms. "You've already met Lord Benyamin who rules Drought Country. And then the Dukes of Lakeland, Arryn, and Lake Hylia came to the Fortress personally. And everyone else sent like a ten-scroll message over the leylines. They've all met you before you were a Duke, so what's up with that?" Ganondorf took a long swallow of tea.

"They all met me when we – the Gerudo - were trying to gain Province status. Now that I am their peer, it's a whole new game. We may be a small province, but a very wealthy one, considering our population." Link frowned in confusion. "Let me put it this way – we have no unemployment – every woman works as soon as she is old enough. The mentally handicapped are given small, easy tasks, but they are kept busy. Those too old for physical labor are given more age-suitable activities, like documentation and management, for those who have any kind of leadership qualities. Those too old to do even that watch the children in the crèches, and take teaching positions. Our glassmaking secrets remain kept, our craftsmanship continues to be that of high quality, our materials for glass easily available – sand, from the desert – and in nearly unlimited quantities. With every person working to contribute, it is obvious we have a system that works, and thus, I, have a way of leading my people that works. The other, older Dukes want to learn that secret. Of course, the secret is really all in the people, not the king, though. There are other reasons as well."

"Like what?" Ganondorf looked amused at that question.

"I'll tell you when you're older – or when what I'm planning comes to fruition."

Link gave a snort of frustration. He'd heard _of_ the plan, but not anything _about_ the plan. It was very aggravating, particularly when Link knew he was a major part of the plan.

_Endear yourself to the Hylian nobility,_Ganondorf had said, _Get them to see the Gerudo Province as a viable part of the country, one to invest in. Attract the attention of the Crown Princess in particular, and the noble boys you will be taking classes with. Learn - if you can do it discreetly and without attracting attention to it - the secrets of those around you. Do that, and we will be richly rewarded._ _You will work on the North and the heirs, while I will work on the South and the throne, and its people. I cannot tell you more than that, for fear you will be discovered, and the more important plans revealed._

"Everything in its own time, Link." The king said now, gently. "Now, enough study and politics for now, there will be plenty of time to focus during dinner with the Duke. Wait for one moment, I'll be back." The Gerudo King stood and retrieved a book from the satchel in his room. He opened the book as he sat on the couch. "Now is the time for more… diverting topics. This is a book of logic-puzzles, recently written by a mathematician in Kelyeso, by the name of Lowes Cageall. He prefers Gerudo math systems above all, so some of this should be familiar to you, if you have learned your material as I hoped you would." Link perked – he loved puzzles, particularly riddles, but logic and math were almost as good, and Ganondorf encouraged those two subjects over riddles. Ganondorf tossed Link a small blank notebook – one of dozens they had brought along – and a charcoal pencil to take notes with.

"Now, if you're ready, we'll start with a simple puzzle: If blue says green lies, green says red lies, and red says blue and green both lie, who is telling the truth?"

Link bent himself to the task.

Duke Benyamin of Mudwater, ruler of Drought Country, was an intimidating presence. He was about half a head taller even than Ganondorf, his shoulders broader, no mean feat for an elfin Hylian. The man was heavily muscled, but at the ripe age of 82, had developed a slight belly despite his apparent attempts to stay fit. The Duke cultivated a short beard, shot through with grey, as was his closely cropped hair. There was none of that Northern nonsense of flowing long hair, kept in braids or in (admittedly tidy) ques.

Benyamin welcomed his guests heartily, his face creased with lines that spoke of good humor and thoughtfulness, but also of hard times in the past. His clothes were of high quality – the materials rich, the cut itself flattering – but a little worn and shabby.

The Duke seated Ganondorf at his right, and Link next to Ganondorf. Benyamin's wife, the Duchess Saryen sat next to Link, and the boy relaxed immediately in her female presence. She was of dark coloration, narrow-featured and subtly attired.

Benyamin was a cheerful man, and pleasant to be around, though his jokes were perhaps not the most tasteful. Duchess Saryen was soft but well-spoken, and politely curious about Link's life in the Fortress. She subtly kept him talking as the two Dukes spoke of more serious matters, and thus kept him distracted and entertained.

The food arrived, and the Duke led the silent prayer over the food. The castle workers all took their meals in the great hall of the castle, much like the Fortress did, though the Lark House was on a much smaller scale. On a dais stood the high table, where the nobility sat. The Duke and Duchess, their four sons (the fifth was studying at the Capitol), their two daughters, Ganondorf, and Link were the ones allowed to eat at the high table.

The first course was soft cheese dumplings, served in a tomato sauce bursting with flavor and herbs. The adults were served watered-down table wine, the children were offered a mixed juice drink – it tasted like pomegranate and apple, the pomegranate adding a richness to the juice, while the apple's sweetness softened the sharp tang of the other fruit. The second course was fresh salad greens, time-sealed and imported from Province of Arryn. The spinach and romaine leaves were dressed in some kind of oil steeped with hot-thorn leaves, mixed with vinegar, and sweetened with honey. Next came the third course, a small portion of rack of lamb, a mint sauce on the side, meant for dipping. The meat was tender and juicy, the sauce surprisingly tangy. The fourth came out, rabbit simmered in white wine and savory herbs. Finally, the fifth and final course – formal dinners came in five courses in the South, rather than the traditional ten of Northern Hyrule. The last course was desert, and it was mind-meltingly delicious. Three little pastries sat on the plate, one stuffed with toasted, spiced pecans and honey, the next a tiny apple turnover, the last shaped like a crescent and filled with lemon curd.

The only highlight of the evening besides the food, in Link's opinion, was a brief conversation with Duke Benyamin. Link had overheard the Lord of Drought Country mention to Ganondorf that his own eldest and youngest son had both been educated at the High Court.

"Why is that, sir?" The boy had wondered.

"You must understand, young Link, that each province is a world in itself – and most are completely sustainable without outside exports. There have been Dukes who have tried to split away from Hyrule and form their own country. So each Duke is required to send their sons to Hyrule Castle to be 'educated'. And the boys _are_ taught – taught the usual subjects, but especially taught to stay in line and obey the Crown. And they are also hostages. With their sons and heirs in the Capitol, no Duke would dare rebel. I even hear the Duke of Imally is required to stay at Court fifteen out of twenty months of the year. Imally is quite the upstart region. So the King has a chokehold on us all, through our sons. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Duke Benyamin nodded, satisfied.

"Good." And the Duke turned back to continue talking with Ganondorf. The Duchess Saryen then asked Link about how he felt about going to the High Court, and then fed him little anecdotes about her own sons' experiences there.

The hour grew late, and the moons had risen high in the south, by the time the two Gerudo left the castle and returned to their chosen inn.

Out in Drought Country, particularly the northern part of the province, it got cold at night. Compounding that, it was still early in spring. Back in the inn, Link said goodnight to his king, shucked off his fine clothes in his room, and folded them neatly (both Nabooru and Ganondorf had trained him well). He cleaned his teeth, washed his face, and crawled under the fine woolen covers of his bed. It had been a big day. He fell asleep not long after his head met his pillow.

Link was woken by the thunderous sound of bells clanging all over the city, and the brassy tones of the massive bronze-cast bells of the Miralie Cathedral, calling the people of Mudwater to rise and begin First Worship. There was a thump in the next room that Link took to be Ganondorf, getting ready for the day.

The boy yawned, stretching, then pulled a shirt and some trousers out of his satchel, hopping on one foot to get his pants on. He splashed water on his face, then finger-combed his wayward, flattened bangs into order. It was a matter of a few minutes to wrap his turban properly.

He and Ganondorf ate what the inn provided; spiced barley porridge, mutton sausage, reconstituted pears, and some clementines. A little boiling water added to a powdered mix of_Kalika_satisfied their need for a taste of home. They ate in the little 'morning room', one of the inn's nicer dining rooms. The day was shaping up to be a fine one, the sun hiding behind the only cloud in the blue, blue sky. Wiping their table down and throwing their trash in the appropriate receptacles, the two Gerudo headed out of the inn, towards the residence of one Nerodis Dnighy.

Nerodis sat next to Link at the kitchen table, trying not to eavesdrop, but listening nonetheless. For Link, with his keen hearing, it was a simple matter, as Nerodis didn't even try to pretend to make conversation. Nerodis' daughters were absent, his wife had left the room. In the dining room, Ganondorf and the long-lost Naotu spoke in hushed voices.

Link listened eagerly.

The Dnighy house was a very narrow house, wedged between two other houses. It was built of dirty white sandstone, the windows narrow and shuttered. Ganondorf had rapped on the door imperiously when they arrived, and a small woman, sturdily boned and clad in dull dark browns had opened it. She'd introduced herself quietly, led them to the kitchen, where a nervous Nerodis stood with Naotu.

She was incredibly beautiful. Her skin was unusually pale for a Gerudo, her complexion clear and healthy. Her hair was the same molten copper color Rabiyu's had been, long and sleek. High, round cheekbones defined a flawless face, her mouth sensuous and her jaw delicate. Her nose was straight and round, and her honey-hued eyes were long-lashed and large. Only the faintest lines around her mouth betrayed her age – she was forty-three. She was lovely, more than even Tabiya had been. But her eyes were cold.

Naotu had stood there in shock, staring at Ganondorf. The Gerudo King stepped forward and cradled her head in glowing hands. She gasped, as the stump of her tongue grew back, and pushed her former lover away.

"My tongue! Don't… don't touch me, Ganon. Why are you here?" She asked tremulously, her rich, musical voice harsh.

"That is not something I will discuss in front of spectators." Ganondorf said simply, and Nerodis directed them to the dining room and closed the door behind them.

"What business is it of yours that you are here in Mudwater?" The woman insisted, the sound of her voice only slightly muffled through the door. "Should you not be ruling your Fortress? Have you been searching for me all this time? I won't go with you, no matter the cost."

"I stopped looking for you after the first year – I had a daughter to raise." Ganondorf said sharply, "And if you hadn't heard, I now rule the new Gerudo Province. I am headed for Hyrule Castle Town, to see the King of Hyrule. Political matters, you see."

"Don't condescend to me, my good _King_. I was mute, not turned into a _dunce_!" She snarled.

"No, your weakness was never that of intellect, but rather of character. Did you even wonder what happened to Rabiyu?"

"Rabiyu? I know no such person."

"It's what I named our daughter. You didn't even give her a name before you left, just up and ran."

"I had to get _away_. From you."

"What? Why? Why didn't you just reject my advances, then? I would have-"

"Would have what? Backed off? You've been spoiled all along, what makes you think you would have given up _anything_ you wanted in your callow youth?"

"Yes. I would have stopped. A man is only as good as his word." Ganondorf was adamant, and Naotu's laughter was mocking. Link chanced a glance at Nerodis, whose jaw was a-drop, to hear her speak so snidely.

"Oh, that is where you're wrong. While you've sheltered behind those Fortress walls, I've learned much more of the world than you have. My husband promised to honor me and care for me, and what does he _do_? Squander away our savings, our pretty house, my earnings and his. Until we live in a _hovel_, and the food on our table full of rot, and the clothes on my _back_ nothing but rags. He swindled our livelihood, and for what? For playing the dice, on drink and pretty girls who don't ask him where our next meal comes from? You are_naïve_ if you think I will trust you, and eat your pretty words, and follow you back to the Fortress with a noose around my neck."

"After those words I want nothing to do with you!" The king snarled, and pounded a closed fist on the dining room table. "I came here to help you. I heal your wounds and what is the first thing that comes out of your poisonous mouth, but vitriol and paranoia. I expected thanks!"

"You expect many things out of life you should not!"

"What kind of King would I have made, with you at my side? I wonder."

"How _dare_ you-!"

"Hear me. With a viper like you at my side, would I place any worth in my women? Would I care for every death? Or fritter it all away like your poorly chosen husband?"

"You are not much of a king if any of your people die."

"You spoke of my callow youth. I loved you. What a fool I was. Naotu, Rabiyu, our daughter, is dead. Dead at the hands of the Hylian men you championed so long ago."

"She's dead." She spoke it in wonderment.

"Yes."

"**GET OUT!**" Naotu shrieked, and flesh met flesh in a ringing slap. Link heard Ganondorf give a grunt of pain, and fend her off. "**Let go of me, do you hear! Let go!**"

"I've had enough!" The king roared over her screams, shaking her into silence. "You left her to me, why should you care? Enough! You may keep your tongue as it is, whole and undamaged. But for every cruel thought that runs through your petty little head, every morsel of bitterness, your bones will ache like the very coming of winter in the north. Climbing stairs will be painful, the smallest task will seem like agony. All this you deserve, and I stand firm with placing this curse upon you."

Link heard his mentor murmur the words to a curse, not another language, but runes made into sounds that could be spoken, like speaking a mathematics equation aloud.

Ganondorf stormed out of the dining room, golden eyes ablaze. Link gulped, Nerodis blanched. The Gerudo King closed the door behind him, ignoring his former lover's shouts of rage. He locked the door with a small burst of magic.

"Master Nerodis," he said, his tone calm though he panted with rage. "That door will open after an hour's time. Now, you are owed a reward, for kindly showing us around the city, and bringing Naotu to my attention. I have payment, and a blessing." Ganondorf pressed a small purse of rupees into Nerodis' shocked hand, then fished in his jacket pocket for a vial of some amber colored liquid. He smeared a dab of herbal oil on the man's forehead with a glowing thumb. "Luck to you, unerring and swift. It will pass to your wife, your children, and all their descendants." The king pulled away his finger, and Nerodis let out the breath he'd held in.

"And what of Naotu?" The gatekeeper asked wearily.

"What of her? She showed her colors, did she not? You were good to me, and she was cruel and self-centered. I repay all actions to me with what they deserve. Good day to you, Master Nerodis, and a fair Highday." Ganondorf turned to Link. "Link, are you ready to go?"

"More than ready!" The boy said hastily, and the man nodded. They practically fled the house.

Once they were ten or so blocks away from Nerodis' house, Ganondorf let his shoulders slump.

"I did not mean for it to turn that way," He confessed quietly to his pupil, walking briskly.

Link nodded and shrugged.

"I'm glad you didn't marry her." The boy said softly, frowning as he hurried to keep up.

"It would have been the end of me, I think. I have been grateful, but never before so relieved to have ultimately married your mother. She is wise, sane, and a good Queen."

"I knew that." The king chuckled.

"Yes, you certainly do." He sighed gustily, and mentally shook himself. "We will eat lunch on the road, I think. No restaurant in Hyrule serves lunch on Highday, anyway."

"Ready to leave quickly, sir?" Link wondered observantly.

"Indeed." Ganondorf agreed, "I want to put that behind me." He sighed. "At least I found out what happened to her." He said, mostly to himself, but his heir and pupil heard.

"Yeah." They walked a little faster, the better to leave Mudwater, as soon as they could.

Within the hour, the wagon was loaded, the horses hitched, and the unusual pair – a Gerudo king and a Hylian boy – rolled out the open gates of the city of Mudwater.

From there, they would travel through Arryn, and then through the Province of the Crown, until they reached the Capitol, and the High Court that awaited them both.

**Chapter Eighteen: Of Sharps**

A two weeks later, Ganondorf and Link were almost to Rosethorn, a city on the edge of the Province of the Crown.

Waysken, three day's journey back, had been a grimy, dirty highwayside city. Flourishing, certainly, but not as well kept as Mudwater was. Perhaps it was the building materials – sandstone versus peeling, painted wood siding. Despite iron mines in the area, Waysken made much of its income from travelers on the highway that wound through Drought Country, across the southernmost border of Arryn, and through Province of the Crown to the gates of Hyrule Castle Town.

There were four major highways across Hyrule; the Western Highway, on which Link and Ganondorf were currently traveling, the Eastern Highway, which led from Hyrule Castle Town to Loggershead in Rainfall Province, the Central Highways, a forked highway branching off the Eastern Highway and providing infrastructure for much of the Plains Province, and the Southern Highway, with forked ends that started in Crimen and Lake Hylia and led to the massive, ever-growing metropolis of Imally. The Southern Highway was the newest, only a hundred years old, and thus few cities were located on it. Not sizeable ones, at least.

Link reclined in the shady back of the wagon with a book – _Tales of the Zora_, a rare collection of Zoran fairytales and legends, unusual as the reclusive fish-people had an oral tradition rather than a written one. It was a beautiful day, a hot one by Northern standards, and Link knew better than to stay out in the sun. It would make him lose fluids, and would thus deplete the wagon's supply of water. Link and Ganondorf had wisely smeared themselves with sun salve, to keep their skin from burning. The one nice thing about Greater Hyrule on the Plains was not always needing to apply sun salve. It was a daily thing in the Fortress, just as important as washing up and cleaning one's teeth. Strange, for such a thing to become unnecessary.

Almost there. He didn't need to ask a chorus of 'are we there yets?' – no, he kept track of it in his head. Ganondorf called out each road marker – there were distance markers along every official road, one for each league traveled. The road markers were oval shaped, and were charmed to state the time when touched.

"_Sheikah magic is what powers them." Ganondorf had informed Link. When the boy cringed in reflexive distaste, his mentor added, "The Sheikah are a part of Greater Hyrule, Link. We are now, too. So you must overcome your Gerudo upbringing and remain polite around such people. No longer can Gerudo or Sheikah be enemies. The Sheikah serve the Hylian King directly – there are many of them at the Court. Be consoled, though. Their bloodlines are weakening. Many of them now interbreed with Hylians. In fact, there have been several cases where the youngest daughter of a noble family has been married to an influential Sheikah man. These days, they're all half-blood – a Hylian with only one Sheikah ancestor of eight is still considered Sheikah."_

"_So they're basically Hylians calling themselves Sheikah."_

"_Yes." Link had slouched at that._

"_I guess they're like me, then. A Hylian calling myself something different." Ganondorf had swatted his charge on the shoulder._

"_Don't say that." He'd said sternly, "Those half-bloods are barely Sheikah. Sheikah in blood, barely. They act Hylian, speak Hylian, spawn Hylians. You, on the other hand, speak like Gerudo, act Gerudo, and are merely Hylian in blood. You are a child of the sun, like me."_

Now, Link enjoyed the shade, and the cooling breeze blowing through the open spaces where the canvas sides of the wagon been rolled up and fastened in place.

All this traveling, just him and his mentor, had been exciting at first. He'd visited Parchen, Mudwater, the quarries of Haltierty, the pine forests of Jevomine, and the streets of Waysken. Each city or town had been unique. It was a lot to take in, for a boy who'd been sheltered behind the gates of the Fortress for most of his life.

It was exciting, no doubt about it. But for all the sights, he preferred the quieter parts. Sleeping under the stars, hunting for his own food, having the complete attention of his king and mentor… Yesterday Ganondorf had let him drive the wagon for a bit. The day before they'd shared riddles and logic stories. Sometimes, when Link was tired of sitting, he ran on the road beside the wagon, stretching his legs until he couldn't keep up with the vehicle.

But after four weeks of travel, Link was ready for some time in one location.

It wasn't like he was spending all day squatting motionless in the wagon, losing muscle tone all the while. Every morning, before breakfast, he and Ganondorf did their morning exercises and battle forms. And each time they took a break to rest the horses or let them graze, they practiced free-form sparring. Link's mentor was a formidable opponent. So it wasn't like he was getting out of practice, but for archery.

Still… he was ready to stop moving.

Link sighed gustily, and turned back to his book.

"What are you sighing about? Get back to your book!" Ganondorf said laughingly from the driver's bench.

"Are we there yet?" Link muttered to himself, with a roll of his eyes.

In the midst of the night, Ganondorf shook Link awake.

"Guh." Link said articulately, wrinkling his nose. He was shaken again when he tried to burrow back into his covers. A piercing, grating _Hureeeeeek!_startled him awake, blue eyes wide, kicking off his covers.

"Shush. Don't panic." His mentor said, amber eyes bright and wild in the moonslight. "We are safe behind my barrier-spell. But you must see this."

Link peeled himself out of his bedroll and climbed to his feet. He raised his light stone and activated it.

Behind the faint, translucent shimmer of the barrier stood monstrous creatures, a dozen of them, pressed right up against the magic shield. Animated skeletons, not with the eagerly glowing eyes of legend, but eyes of void, sucking in all available light. Link pulled his gaze away from those empty, consuming pits of eyes and shuddered.

"Stalfos?" He whispered, fingering the ocarina he kept on a string around his neck. It was the only thing he could use as a weapon. They kept their weapons in the wagon.

"That's correct. Don't worry – they cannot bear the sunlight. We could wait until morning, or sleep, and they would be gone by dawn. They appear to those who stand on battlefields at night, to take their revenge from trespassers. The stronger, older ones can leave the battlefields. But that takes hundreds of years."

"How do you know so much about monsters?"

"My mothers, the witches Twinrova, dabbled in black magic. Not dark magic, as you might think, but black."

"Necromancy?" Link said, horrified.

"Yes. Come, it's time to see how powerful your music magic is. …Don't look at me like that, Link. Now, play me and our visitors a song."

Shakily, Link complied.

What song to chose? What lyrics appropriate?

Sun, daylight. Bright burning noon in the midst of the desert…

"Do not invoke the sun. It's too simple." Damn him! Link thought furiously, envious of the king's steady composure. "Turn them to dust, crush their bones, tear them apart. Play with them, if you will. Experiment."

Link tried a battle song. An old Gerudo one, from the days of Lake Hylia. It only seemed to rally the Stalfos, who leapt at the barrier, and were repelled by the immoveable wall.

He tried many songs. All ineffectual.

Fine, give up songs, with their lyrics. That left him with melody. Improvisation. Emotion.

Link put the mouthpiece to his lips, and as he played, images came to mind. Visual equivalents of notes.

_Relentless fire, burning greasily, smoke blackening the sky, sunless._

He hurled this song at the tallest skeleton, and it screamed, joints clicking, shrieking without voice, as it suddenly burst into a holocaust of flames. With a little mental nudging, the fire spread to the others. Remnants of hair burned first, then the dried remains of tendons, before the blaze worked its way to dry bone. Soon, the fire had consumed it all, all of six of the monsters.

"Good!" Ganondorf laughed, eyes exultant, his craggy face lit by the fire, "Now try something else."

With greater confidence, Link obeyed.

Thoughts of axes cracked bone and sent another flying. Images of acid, like those found in roiling pools in Northern Drought Country, melted the next creature to a pile of steaming mud. All three slowly reformed themselves.

_The movement of glaciers, something he'd only read about, tons of gritty ice scouring mountain valleys, inching along, grinding rock and soil._

He took that thought and let it unfurl in the remaining monsters. Slowly, the bones of one of the Stalfos split, then turned to dust. Finally, Link used the countless memories of mornings spent alone, watching the sun rise in the west. A bright white light filled the area, eating away at the shrieking Stalfos' bones like a ravenous predator, until the monsters were nothing but colored smoke drifting away on the cold night breeze.

Applause came from his right. He put down his ocarina and let it dangle from its string, wiped sweaty hands on his trousers, then turned, to see his mentor beaming.

"Well done, Link. Very well done." Ganondorf said approvingly.

"Why did you make me do that?" Link wondered, frowning.

"Don't you see? You've been afraid of monsters since the cave behind the waterfall. Stalfos are more dangerous than Lizalfos or Dinofols and you've progressed to the point that you can take out a dozen. I don't think you realize what a potent weapon your music can be, or how much more flexible it is in its uses."

"Really?" He asked, stricken with the realization.

"Indeed. Now, one more experiment, and then we'll pack out. It's a few hours till dawn." Sure enough, the sky was beginning to lighten in the west. "I want to see if you can do magic without an instrument. Come!" Ganondorf beckoned, and Link followed him to a small sapling.

"I want you cut the dead branch, the one without any leaves. Without your ocarina." Link eyed the tree, sizing it up in his mind.

"Are there any other limitations, other than no instruments?" He queried, sounding like a grown youth, rather than the boy he was. Perhaps Ganondorf had trained him too well.

"No. I can see the cogs moving, boy. What are you thinking of using?"

"A whistle. Or a clap. A sharp sound. It's a shame – B sharp would have been perfect for cutting. Just one note."

"No instruments, Link." Ganondorf said, but his tone was approving.

"Fine, fine." The boy said off-handedly, and took a step closer to the tree. He tried whistling a few different notes without using any magic, before he settled on a high B sharp. Focusing on the bare branch, he whistled sharply, letting his magic cut through the note and across the distance between him and the tree.

Nothing.

He sighed, and tried again, making the note shorter and shriller. A leaf fluttered down from the tree, but nothing more. Fine. Was it lips? Were lips too soft for cutting? Experimentally, Link drew his lips back and whistled a strong B sharp, this time through his teeth.

With a soft _shwick_, the branch sliced in two, falling with a crash to the muddy ground. He grinned in triumph and turned to his teacher.

"I knew you could do it." There was no higher praise. "Come, let us pack."

After a month of travel, and countless nights sleeping under the stars, Link and Ganondorf had packing down to a routine. Blankets were folded, bedrolls rolled and fastened shut around the lumpy pillows, night clothes stowed, morning ablutions completed and fresh clothes put on. Everything was loaded into the wagon, and Ganondorf and Link settled into their places on the driver's bench.

Ganondorf clicked his tongue at the horses, their signal to start – and Fanna and Sunfire obeyed. The two Gerudo had breakfast once they entered the highway once more. Link crawled into the back, headed for the crate that contained the provisions meant for breakfast. A few drops of blood were all that was needed to activate the cooking spells, and then breakfast was ready.

Ganondorf ate his meal one-handed, with great relish. They'd picked up a bushel each of fine Arryn apples and pears when they'd passed through a local orchard. Link ate the same meal as his mentor. His pear was soft, juicy, and mild. The sandwich he'd made of a pita pocket stuffed with bacon, cheese, and dried tomato. Ganondorf and Link chased the meal down with instant-made _Kalika_, the minty-citrus drink hot and soothing in the brisk chill of the Northern spring morning.

The pair made themselves comfortable where they sat, Link reading his book, _The Tale of Sharanes, Lord of Riverside,_aloud, so Ganondorf could enjoy the story as he drove. Link used different voices for each character, utilizing his ability to mimics others to impressive effect. The story told of the adventures of one Sharanes, a young man who was born youngest in a noble family, a thousand years ago, who had risked it all to settle on the Hylian Plains and set up a farming fief, in the days when most Hylians lived in the shelter of the Curled Backbone Mountains that loomed in the very northernmost border of Hyrule. The history behind the book was true, but much of the story was likely romanticized hear-say, according to Ganondorf. It was an entertaining tale nonetheless.

Who ever would have thought Hylians had begun as mountainfolk? These days most of the population lived on the Plains, the Southern people's numbers rapidly increasing, already outweighing the North. That explained why the Capitol was located at the northernmost end of the country – history had placed it on the foothills of the Backbone Range, far from the present center of the Hylian domain.

The scenery over the past three weeks had gone from red and brown desert and rock, to golden steppe, to faded green prairie, to lush pine and hardwood forest interspersed with farmer's fields. Now in the heart of Province of the Crown, the wagon rolled ever closer to Rosethorn, the home holding of one Ferrick Rauros.

**Chapter Nineteen: Of Castles**

"_Now we're busy making all our busy plans  
On foundations built to last  
But nothing fades as fast as the future  
And nothing clings like the past,_

_Until we can see  
More than this…"_

More Than This ~ Peter Gabriel

"So why're you coming with us?" Link wondered to Ferrick, who had seated himself on the driver's bench on the far side of Ganondorf.

Three days ago the two Gerudo had stopped at Rosethorn Estates, at Ferrick Rauros' invitation. It was Ferrick who had formerly introduced Ganondorf to the Hylian King at their first official meeting with Ganondorf after the desert man had been made a subject of Hyrule.

Link and his king had rested for two days, enjoying the low-key luxury of the oldest estate in Hyrule. Four meals a day had been a strange adjustment – it was typical in the South, particularly the Southwest, to only eat three meals, due to food shortages. The meals were the same size – more Northerner gluttony, some men in the South rumbled about, according to Ferrick.

While Northern food tended to be richer than in the South, with some not-so good flavor combinations, and most of the vegetables vastly over-stewed, the food at Rosethorn had been delicious. The first night they were served smoked hind haunch served in a sweet cranberry sauce, the next dinner was roasted duck in an apricot glaze, a specialty of the Rosethorn Estates. Best of all, was Rosethorn cheese. It was unique to the area, aged, creamy cow' milk cheese, carefully infused with the slightest amount of powdered chirrupy-rind. When Link expressed his approval of the cheese, Ferrick gifted the two Gerudo with three large wheels of cheese.

The surroundings were as beautiful at Rosethorn as the food there was delicious. The area was heavily treed - most trees were massive, at least a hundred years old. The grass was verdant, lush, and neatly kept. The buildings were of red brick, to which glossy green ivy clung. The estate itself had any formal gardens, all attractively fenced with wrought iron. The sheer amount of greenery, the tranquil calm about the place, awed Link. It was a very restful two days, spend wandering the shady grounds.

Now, Ferrick grinned at Link.

"Every lad who goes to Court must have two sponsors, not of their blood, who are familiar with the court. I'll be your primary sponsor, but you'll-"

"What?" Ganondorf said in surprise, "You said you would find two others who would serve adequately."

"Yes," Ferrick sighed, "That was six months ago. Much has changed since then. My mother and great-aunt are determined to marry me off. I suppose I asked for it – going from failing squire, to the Lord Ambassador's Gerudo aide, to being on personal terms with a Province Duke." The younger man eyed the Gerudo King, "No offense, sir."

"None at all," Ganondorf dismissed politely, "Our partnership has benefitted both of us. And the Gerudo Province would not be were it not for your work with me."

"I suppose. Anyway, my change in status means suddenly I am now good enough for girls at Court to fancy, particularly now I have actual holdings in Crimen, however small. But since I am here now, why shouldn't I help Link? Rather than a complete stranger."

"That's okay." Link allowed, pleased. Ferrick knew the Gerudo, had been to the Fortress, loved Rabiyu. Once Ganondorf was gone Link would have someone to _talk_ to, about things that actually mattered. Ferrick was Northern-bred, Gerudo-wed, and a convert to the Southern ways.

"Who's my other sponsor?"

"That would be the honorable Sir Fran, who unwillingly graces the court with his perpetual presence."

"Duke Fran of Imally?" Ganondorf exclaimed in horror, "The one they call 'Fran the Bastard?' He can't read!"

"He's learning." Ferrick said patiently, "And we've finally weaned him off the hard Southern liquor, so he is actually coherent these days." Link didn't like the sound of that, and it must have shown on his face, because Ferrick then said, "Don't look like that, Link. He's a good, decent Southern man, and a first-rate fighter. The important thing is he's common-blood like you, so he'll teach you to ignore the slights of the foppish boors who frequent the Court."

"Great." Link said, slowly with a groan, "I'm doomed."

"You'll only have problems with the conservative, first-rank nobles. Fran is a good judge of character - if he likes you, the Southern Lords will too, and so will the nobles of third-rank and lower. Sir Fran doesn't make a good noble, but he is a leader without peer. So much so that the people of Imally threatened to revolt when some of the first-rank toadies tried to have him replaced with an outsider with bluer blood."

"That is true," Ganondorf conceded, "But I will expect _you_ to watch over Link's academic learning, not Fran, Ferrick."

"Yessir." Ferrick smiled easily.

The two men had not always gotten along so well. Ganondorf had been vaguely fond of him, when the Hylian had been a boy Rabiyu had written love letters to and visited a few times a year. He'd barely tolerated Ferrick's presence after her death, but remained civil as they worked together to create the Gerudo Province. Any dislike for the scholarly mage had turned to indebted trust, after the first year working together, the countless nights spent up all night, the advice Ferrick had given the older man in how to impress the Hylian King, the way Ferrick still grieved for Rabiyu. All this had told Ganondorf that Ferrick was good to the core, one of the few Hylians who could be trusted with anything.

Now, Ferrick presented Link and Ganondorf with a slim, bound book, Ferrick's version of a who's who of the High Court.

"I've updated it since your last visit, sir. Queen Alia has it in her head to replace all the tapestries in the castle with silk ones. And she's on a reducing diet yet again, and all the ladies are following her lead."

"Good Goddesses," Ganondorf groaned, "The frivolity of the woman. As if she's ever truly needed to go hungry. And her all tiny bones to begin with."

"Yes! Thank you, King Ganondorf." Ferrick said with great relief. "The Southern women have all found ways to decline politely, mostly. It's a relief to hear a perspective from a sensible person once more."

Ganondorf chuckled, and the wagon rolled on.

The three stopped early for the night, just a few hours away from Hyrule Castle Town. The city was vast, according to Ganondorf and Ferrick, and they all wanted to be fresh and full of energy for the big day of arrival.

Ferrick entertained Link with tales of Crimen, and of the small lands he held there, the Sand Cat Estate given to him by the Hylian Lord Ambassador for his services. The Sand Cat Estate was mostly vineyard, but also grew olive trees and a small orchard of amber fruit trees.

Amber fruit was incredibly valuable, as it had healing properties, and was a necessary ingredient for healing elixirs. Powdered, it could be sprinkled on a wound to speed healing times. Juiced, it strengthened the immune system and slowed aging. Eaten whole, the skin raised immunity to poison. The hard golden pit could be dried and ground into sparkling starspice, prized for its potent, savory flavors and various health benefits. But amber trees could not be grown just anywhere. It had to be grown in rich soil, in a warm but not too hot climate, the soil moist but not too wet. It would only develop its magical properties if it was grown over leylines, and had to be fed magic twice a month, at new and full moons.

The amber trees were short and graceful, with broad circular leaves, the fruit itself lemon-shaped, its papery, semi-transparent skin and juicy flesh a deep amber color, hence the name.

With careful but strenuous spell-work, Ferrick had rerouted a minor leyline to pass through his estate land, away from a barren rock ridge a scant mile away that no one would miss. With his plan's success, Ferrick had become a modestly wealthy noble.

Ferrick then went on to describe the local fauna, particularly the dangerous predators. There was an abundance of poisonous snakes, which the people of the Sand Cat Estates were instructed to capture if possible, and milk the reptiles of their venom before feeding them and setting them free. Actual snake bites were rare – the locals all wore protective amulets to prevent such occurrences. Ferrick spoke of seeing the mysterious ridge-cats, who hunted Wolfos, antelope, and deer. The ridge-cats stood as tall at the shoulder as a fully grown man, and about nine to ten feet long from pink nose to dark tail tip. Southerners tried to attract these magnificent predators to their woods, to their fields, as the big cat's preferred prey was Wolfos, magically altered wolves who preyed only on people and children. No one knew whether ridge-cats naturally hunted Wolfos, or were just as magically altered to prefer an enraged Wolfos over a plump, elderly deer. Ferrick believed they were altered, as there was not a single reported attack on any Hylian by a ridge-cat, and he'd personally witnessed a half-starved ridge-cat completely ignore a squealing, injured girl-child passing by.

So effective were these cats, that it was a common practice for each settlement to keep a ridge-cat or two to stalk its demesnes. Sand Cat Estates housed three cats, as its remote location was ideal for rogue Wolfos.

"Anyway, the ridge-cat is a very popular animal, so it shows up in a lot of art, particularly on the crests of the newer nobles. There's a whole slew of songs about the cats, and everyone prefers cat-symbolism over the North's preoccupation with unaltered wolves. We'll be doing something to shake up even that in a few months, but," and here he winked, "I won't say anything more than that."

"Time for bed," Ganondorf announced, and the trio bedded themselves down in grassy hollow at the foot of a forested hillock.

The morning dawned bright and early. Linked rubbed furiously at his sandy eyes once Ganondorf shook him awake. There would be no chance to sleep in the back of the wagon – eight hours of sleep would have to do for today.

Link sat quietly at his place on the driver's bench, feeling nervous. He'd never really thought seriously about living at the Capitol. He'd known and planned for it, but it hadn't really hit him until now – in a month, he would be all alone among the Hylians. Worse, Northern Hylians! For three weeks they'd traveled, and now the end of the journey was upon them.

He gnawed industriously on a buttermilk scone packed from Rosethorn – it had dried blueberries in it, then nibbled on a slice of Rosethorn cheese. Next were a small packet of walnuts, and he chased the gritty, almost powdery nut-aftertaste away with a large flask of instant-_Kalika_.

At last, the white walls of Hyrule Castle Town rose in the distance. According to both Ganondorf and Ferrick, the Capitol had developed much like Mudwater had, only over a longer time span. The Hylian King Harkinian the First, had come down from the mountains and conquered the central foothills of the Curled Backbone Mountains. He built several castles to protect his holdings, but his favorite castle was Hyrule Castle, built at the apex of a massive foothill a thousand years ago. As he was busy conquering more and more of the land contained by the magical barriers, he declared he ruled the kingdom of Hyrule, and sent much of his wealth to Hyrule Castle. The people of the castle grew in number until the castle walls couldn't hold them all. The very top of the foothill was now reserved for nobility – and Hyrule Castle Town grew first on the sloping sides of the Capitol, and slowly spread down the hill, at the base of the hill, and outwards to the sweeping bend of the Zora River.

The walls of the city were massive. Link's eyes caught the gleam of steel armor as guards paced the upper walkways on the walls. The wagon got into line, waiting to enter the city via the largest of its three wooden drawbridges.

The buildings around the main road to the Castle were an attractive hodgepodge of building styles, young and old, all well-cared for. The thoroughfare opened into a massive market square. Visiting Parchen, Mudwater, and Waysken had accustomed Link to city crowds and traffic, but this… This was on a completely different level. The sights, the movement and color. The smells, good and bad – spices, fruit, cooking meat, leather, hot metal, …and horse dung. There were countless rows of stalls, and store fronts with fine facades. The air was filled with the noises of chatter, earnest dickering, shop and stall keepers singing out their goods, chickens and livestock for sale, the rumble of wooden and iron wheels. In the center of the square, at the rim of a large fountain (depicting the current ruler of Hyrule) sat a quartet of musicians, playing a merry, sprightly song. A crowd of admirers had gathered around the players, some of them dancing to the music. Link longed to go nearer, to hear the songs they were playin, to watch how Northerners danced. But Ferrick put a hand on Link's shoulder to keep him still.

"It would be rude not to go straight to the Castle. There will be other times to visit the Market Square, and even now, we are being watched by some who have the nobles' ears, who are in their pay for such services. Look to your right – the crowning jewel of the Capitol."

Link looked. A massive white marble cathedral towered above all the buildings, its magnificent upper heights clad with copper and gold. It must surely be the Temple of Time, built on the very place the Goddesses departed the mortal plane after creating the world. It was, without doubt, the most beautiful structure in all Hyrule, and it had taken a century and a half to build.

The Market Square was so large and crowded, it took about an hour to get through the traffic and onto the road that led uphill. The wagon was stopped by guards at the entrance of the road, and Ganondorf bid Link to go in the back and get out the leather-wrapped sheaf of papers that would allow them passage, and proved their noble status and purpose. The guard gave his approval, and waved them past the checkpoint. The road grew steeper – the horses had to strain against their harnesses. Ganondorf let them rest at a flatter, more level section of the road. Then, up the hill again, around a curve in the road, and then the wagon rolled to a stop in front of a massive gateway, liberally manned by armor-wearing soldiers. Again, their papers were examined. Once the head guard had determined the papers were authentic, the man rapped the butt of his glaive on the cobblestones, signaling his men to open the barred gates. Pulleys and cogs groaned gratingly as they were moved, the soldiers urging the horses to pull on the chains attached to the door mechanism. The steel bars crossing the wooden door drew back, allowing the head guard and his men to swing the heavy doors wide for the wagon.

Ganondorf clucked to his horses, and the wagon rolled through the gate, and up the winding road to the summit of the hill. A company of two mounted soldiers followed closely behind. The road led past a well-trimmed meadow, and into a copse of stately trees ornamented with many-colored glass orbs hung from their branches.

When they came out of the heavy tree cover, the pale grey walls of Hyrule Castle came into view at the crown of the hill. The palace was beautiful, all narrow towers flying standards that snapped in the brisk spring winds. It was clear the palace had been built in two stages – first as a fortress to shelter in, graceful but serviceable strength, the windows narrow, with arrow slits in abundance. Then later, built as a well-protected palace, with the same white-grey stone, delicately matching the style of the previously existing structure, the windows large, paned with clear or colored glass. At the base of the castle lurked a moat filled with crystal clear water, paved in deep blue stones. The water probably required magic to keep it in the moat, rather than seeping through stone and earth to run downhill to join the water table. The single drawbridge was down, and the wagon rumbled across it into the wide courtyard within. Immediately a host of servants descended on the trio of nobles.

Ganondorf dropped the thief spell on the wagon's contents, and began directing the servants to where each crate or sack should go, and they obeyed. Once he was sure they all knew what to do, he joined Link and Ferrick, who had slipped off the driver's bench and stood waiting for him.

A woman wearing servant's garbed in bright, fine emerald clothing approached.

"Good day, my Lords." She said formally with a bow, her dark braid falling off her shoulder, "Welcome to Hyrule Castle, we've been expecting you. I am Ruby Yannoska, the headwoman of the Green Wing of the Castle, where you will be staying until you depart. If you will follow me, I will show you your quarters. Your things are being carried there already." She snapped her fingers, and two servants, a tall man with black hair, and a shorter, stockier man with mousy long hair, peeled out of the shadows and stood at attention.

"Yes, Madam Ruby?" They chorused, and Ruby nodded in approval.

"Tanner," She said to the tall one, then to the short one, "Chase. Get our lord's immediate things and follow us. You will serve our Lords Ganondorf, and Link while they are here. Come!" Ruby saluted the two Gerudo, then Ferrick. "My Lords, Sir Ferrick. Follow me, please, sirs." She left at a brisk pace, and the three nobles hurried to follow her, leaving the wagon, its contents, and the horses to the care of the Castle's servants. Tanner and Chase liberated the sacks of clothing meant for court, as well as the two satchels of necessaries, and trotted after Ruby.

As they walked, Ferrick nudged Link.

"Don't give Ruby any orders, Link. She may act common, but she's actually a daughter of Lord Count Galfiel, from Stonewall."

"I wasn't going to," Link retorted, rolling his shoulders, "Why else would she be wearing ruby eardrops with stones that large?"

"Clever boy." Ferrick grinned, and Link let that one roll off.

"Hyrule Castle is a large place, as you've seen." Ruby called from ahead. "Numerous courtyards and gardens are housed within. We have our own chapel, as well as a large Great Hall and a smaller one. There are nine wings in all. The royal family lives in the Golden Wing. The Capitol, with its copper dome resides in the Silver Wing. You will be in the Green Wing, but there is a Blue Wing, a Red Wing, a White Wing, a Black Wing, a Yellow Wing, and the Old Wing, which houses the Library and Archives." She opened a door with a heavy key, and led them through an open courtyard full of evergreen trees, down a shady, rock-walled path, across a cart way used by servants, and into an open-air hallway decorated with statues of what looked to be nobles from long ago, from their garb. Ruby turned left at an intersection of hallways, and walked to the end of the hallway. A large door stood, its wood varnished with some kind of dark green stain. The lintel and doorframe were made of decorative greenstone, flecked with black.

"You can tell which wing is which, by looking at the lintel. The Green, Blue, and Red Wings are residential, and for nobles only, the Yellow Wing is for servants, the Black for the Armory, training rooms, and barracks. The White is for healing and non-noble mages. The Great Hall stands at the center of the palace, and the kitchens are attached to the Hall. After a week you'll have the layout down, but until then there are parchment maps available in your rooms." She led them into the Green Wing, which was built mostly of white-grey marble. All the tapestries on the walls featured the color green, the candle sconces were of bottle-green glass. The doors, each with its own elaborately carved scenes, were all stained the same dark green that the outside wing door had been. "My Lord Ferrick Rauros, I assume you know your room already?"

"I do, Ruby."

"Wonderful. I shall leave you now, sir, and take the Duke and his heir to their room." Ferrick retired to his own room, and Ruby led the two Gerudo down the hall. There seemed to be two sets of doors for every suite of rooms – a large, ornate door for the room's owner, and a smaller, simpler door for servant access. Every three sets of rooms there was a small recess, a nook with wide stained-glass windows and armchairs upholstered in rich emerald and jade brocade. "I've given the both of you rooms next to each other. Here we are." She stopped in front of two carved doors.

The first door's carving was of the Triforce, and the qualities it commanded. Within the lower right triangle stood a soldier with his sword drawn, to the left, a priest praying. The top triangle showed a king, regal on his throne.

The second door depicted a hero slaying a dragon, narrow face solemn and sword raised, the shield on his arm bearing a device Link had never seen before – a hawk clutching a miniature tree in one claw, a scroll in the other. Above the hero flew a falcon, the Hylian symbol for loyalty. At the bottom of the door, were carved the words 'Thereo, Thrice Hero of the Endless Cataclysm.'

"The Triforce Suite is yours, Duke Ganondorf." Ruby said, unlocking the door with her key, "I believe you've stayed there before?"

"Yes, I have. You needn't show me around, Madam Ruby. I am familiar with the room."

"Very good, my Lord. Chase will serve you for your stay, and will live in the servant's room. He is trustworthy, and Southern. He does not speak the secrets of those he serves." Ganondorf nodded thoughtfully.

"Excellent. Thank you, my dear."

"You are welcome. The official welcoming with the King is scheduled for half past noon." She checked a time-keeper, pulling it from her pocket. "As it is not yet thirteen, you will have about three and a half hours to ready yourself and get acquainted with your lodgings. Come with me, young Lord Link." She beckoned, "I believe you will enjoy the Hero Thereo's Suite." Ruby pulled out her ring of keys and opened the door when with a random key. Link walked into a small room, with a single armchair and a table. At the far end of the small room was another door, with a small diamond of glass at the top to let natural light in.

"This is the Waiting Room. Anyone can get into this room if they have a palace key, but not into the main room. This room is for visitors to wait until the owner returns. You can also deny people access to this room, by use of magic, but only within reason." Ruby opened the suite door with the right key, and let Link out into a spacious set of rooms, also decorated in a theme of green.

There was a wide open room – one section contained a table and chairs, and served as an eating area and entertaining room, while the larger portion of the open space opened up to floor to ceiling diamond-paned glass window. A sofa set of mossy-hued upholstery gathered around a low table and faced the incredible view of a garden courtyard – a door in the corner of the room allowed access to outside. There was a sumptuously appointed bathroom, complete with a private bath and privy. A second door in the washroom led to the bedroom, where a tall bed, with green and gold hangings and mahogany wood dominated the room. A window seat sat below the wide windows that also looked into the courtyard. In the bedroom there was also a set of hooks and shelves appropriate to hang weapons on. Link left the room via the door that opened into the lounge room. He crossed the main room to the last room, and found the door opened to a study, with the same diamond-pane windows as the other two rooms. The desk was simple but graceful, of the same dark wood as the bed and other furnishings. Bookshelves lined the room, filled with books of intriguing titles, and, Link was pleased to note, enough room to set up his own books from the wagon. The wall hangings in the set of rooms seemed to be illustrations of the same story – various feats of the narrow-faced, golden-haired hero carved on the door.

"Are you pleased?" Ruby queried, and Link turned to her, grinning.

"This is amazing! I've never had more than a room to sleep in, before." He enthused. The Wing housekeeper allowed herself a smile.

"I believe you will enjoy your time here, then. Here is the servant's entry." She indicated a narrow hallway Link had overlooked. "Tanner will be serving you. He is a father himself, and I will expect you to listen to his advice and bathe and sleep like a reasonable person. He is not here to obey your every command, like Chase will to Duke Ganondorf. Tanner is to care for you, and keep you healthy. You can ask him anything – but he is not bound to obey you."

"Understood." Link said with a sharp nod. He wasn't exactly pleased, but perhaps some noble children were so spoiled they went silly without parental guidance. He didn't think he would need it, but he didn't want to accidentally get out of line, so it was probably for the best.

"Splendid." She replied crisply, and offered the boy a ring with two keys on it. The larger one had a simple green stone set in the handle, while the other one had the Hero's shield minutely engraved on the handle. "Here are the keys to your room, and the Green Wing. Do not lose them. Once you are settled here, you will be given an identity bauble to attach to the key ring. It will confirm you are living in the castle, and that the guards are to let you back into the grounds. The map of the palace and grounds is on your desk. You won't need it today." A tall man came in through the servant's entrance, carrying satchels of clothing. He was followed by a train of drudges, each one bearing a crate or sack. Ruby briskly directed the servants – books went in the study, weapons and clothing in the bedroom, imperishable provisions and instant-_Kalika_ powder to be placed in the cabinets in the eating area. Within twenty minutes, everything was put away, and the drudges left. The tall man stayed behind.

"I am Tanner Beholen, my young Lord." He said simply, "I will be looking after you."

"Thank you, Tanner." Link said politely.

"I will stay in the attached quarters. If you need anything, all you need do is knock on the door."

"All right." Link said agreeably, "I'm fine for now. I'm going to get dressed and go next door to talk with Duke Ganondorf." Tanner bowed, and left the room via the servant's door.

"I will leave you alone for now, young lord Link." Ruby said, "I will be back to show both you and Duke Ganondorf to the Great Hall in two and a half hours." She saluted him, and left.

Link went to his new bedroom and selected an outfit for the formal meeting with the Hylian King. He chose an off-white shirt and trousers, the cuffs embroidered in the geometric designs the Gerudo favored, with a red over-jacket. He gave his hair a good brush, and noted he would need to replenish the spell that kept his hair auburn, or he would have to let it turn its natural gold. He should probably keep the spell, Link decided as he looked in the mirror, or his skin would be darker than his sun-bleached hair.

That decided, he left his rooms, entered Ganondorf's Waiting Room, and knocked on his step-father's door. The door opened quickly, and the Gerudo King let Link in.

"Come in, boy." Link obeyed, and headed for the lounge area, with its sofas and armchairs. Ganondorf's rooms were arranged in a similar fashion as Link's. The boy plopped himself into the cushions of a particularly squashy loveseat.

"Do you think they put us in the Green Wing because we're Gerudo and green is Gerudo traitor's colors?" He wondered aloud.

"I don't think anyone here besides Ferrick knows that much about the Gerudo, Link. They're trying to impress us. I've heard it said that the Green Wing is the most luxurious building after the Golden Wing. I am a Duke now, and you are my heir. Technically, that makes us nobles of the first rank, but other, more established lines will have more clout. It is a vexation, but a small one."

"All right."

"Now come – Ruby has provided us with a bowl of fruit – perfectly ripe." Link got up, his interest piqued, and sat next to his King in the eating area. Indeed the fruit was lovely, blood-red strawberries, dark swollen blueberries, juicy raspberries and blackberries. Link popped a strawberry into his mouth, and made a loud noise of appreciation. He'd had his first strawberry at Rosethorn, and these were even better. Juicy, sweet and tangy, the tiny seeds crunchy.

After they had eaten their fill, Ganondorf put the rest of the fruit in a cooling cabinet, then pulled out a book on basic Court etiquette, and started to quiz Link.

They spent several hours doing this, when Ruby returned.

"Are you both ready to meet the King?" She inquired, her green dress discarded in favor of a gown in crimson and gold.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Link said cheekily, and Ganondorf glared at him in mild reproach.

"Very well." Ruby said, as if Link hadn't spoken, "The King will be holding court in the Phoenix Room in the Golden Wing, today. Let us go."

And off they went, to meet the King of Hyrule

**Chapter Twenty: Of Crowns**

Ruby guided Link and Ganondorf down the main corridor of the Green Wing. As he walked, Link noticed that each main door to a set of rooms was carved. One door showed a majestic mountain range, its peaks snow-capped. Another had two knights jousting, yet another was of a howling wolf. Ruby picked up her pace, and he stopped looking at the doors and focused on where they were going.

She led them to the northernmost end of the wing, and out into a large hallway made of the same white-grey stone and white mortar as the rest of the castle was. The corridor was well-lit by the sun that streamed in through large windows, indicating that this hallway was as new as the Green Wing was.

"With the exception of the oldest part of Hyrule Castle," Ruby said, "All the new wings are connected to each other with fairly narrow hallways. This means there is much room between the new and old parts of the Castle – room for private courtyards and gardens, and a small labyrinth." They came to the end of the hall, which opened into an intersection of halls, and Ruby guided the Gerudo males to the path on the right. A large wooden doorway stood on the left, inlaid with a large Triforce made of gold. "That is the Castle Chapel, which only opens on Highday, and is used by the Royal Family every day. Come! We will be in the Great Hall soon."

Sure enough, the hall led past a set of narrow doors, from which delicious, rich smells wafted – they must be passing the kitchens, for it was almost time for lunch. At last, the hallway opened into a massive hall, set up much like Duke Benyamin of Mudwater's hall had been, only on a greater scale. There was the King's table, up on the podium. A vast array of long tables and high-backed chairs lined the hall below.

"This is the Great Hall," Ruby said, "This place is where the nobles and vassals dine. The title-less servants eat in the Yellow Wing – the servant's wing." She walked down the spacious side of the room, and exchanged polite words with the men who guarded the massive golden door on the western wall of the Hall. In parallel, there was a set of great silver doors on the eastern wall, leading to the Capitol building, where laws and judgment were passed every day by those who ran Hyrule.

The men finally nodded to Ruby, bowed to Link and Ganondorf, and pulled the great door open. The hinge mechanism was ingenious and so perfectly balanced that the doors swung easily and without hardly any noise. They stepped through the doors into a high-ceilinged room decorated with golden wall hangings.

Ferrick stood waiting for them with a tall, stocky fellow, who must be Sir Fran. Fran was almost as large as Ganondorf, with short, tightly curled blue-black hair and tanned, rough skin. He was muscular and solid, his dark brown eyes sharp and alert, his dark mustache small and neat above his upper lip. His fine clothes were somewhat rumpled, but other than that, Fran looked nothing like the drunkard both Link and Ganondorf had expected. As they approached, those clever, dark eyes fixed on the two Gerudo, and Fran stepped forward.

"Hallo. Ye've made it just on time. Ye must be Duke Ganondorf and Link, his heir. I be Sir Fran, the Bastard Duke of Imally." He grinned at his last words. Ferrick sighed.

"That is not your proper title, Duke Fran." He said with a vague smile. Fran shrugged.

"But it is the truthful title, yes?" The Duke of Imally had a thick, rough accent, very Southeastern low-born.

"I suppose." Ferrick conceded, then looked up. "Thank you for your help, Ruby. I'll take over from here." He formally bowed to her, and she returned his gesture with a sweeping curtsey.

"Pleasure," She said gracefully, dour mouth quirking into a faint smile. "But as they are my charges in my Wing, I shall stay to watch the ceremonies, if that is not too bold?"

"No, No," Fran said, grinning lopsidedly, "Course you can come – here: I formally invite ye, Ruby Yannoska, to observe the welcomin' ceremony that I be going to."

"Thank you, my Lord Fran." Ruby said politely, and Fran nodded in acknowledgement.

Ferrick checked his timepiece, and put it back in his pocket.

"It's time." He said quietly, gesturing the group down towards the right corridor. Gold was the color theme for this part of the palace, but it was tastefully done, more or less. As they walked down the high-ceilinged hall, the group of nobles went past formal sitting rooms, a ball room, several formal receiving rooms, and a conservatory. At last, they reached the Phoenix Room, a door encrusted with gold, as well as jasper and lapis inlay, in the pattern of a rising phoenix, set against a dark blue sky, the sun and moons hanging on either side. They stepped through the doorway, to be greeted by the royal crier.

"Everyone is here, yes?" The Crier asked, rubbing his hands together nervously, his manner vaguely rodent-like. "Good, good. I will announce those in attendance, and then your party. His Highness is in a good mood today – everyone must be pleasant – I would not have it ruined by mere inexperience with Court life."

"You needn't worry, Sir Jasper." Ruby said coldly. "I have instructed them on the proper protocols."

"Have you? We shall have to see, Madam Yannoska." Jasper the Royal Crier said, unconvinced. Ruby's stern hazel eyes glittered in anger, her red mouth thinning. "We begin," The Crier said, gesturing the group forward. He rapped his ceremonial staff on the marble floor.

"My King! My Lords, my Ladies…" Jasper began, "We are here to welcome to Court two nobles of the first rank, may the Goddesses bless them."

"Goddesses bless!" The room echoed, lords and ladies bedecked in jewel-toned finery, stationed around the gold-appointed hall.

"In attendance today, my Lord most high, King of all Hyrule, His Majesty Daphnes Harkinian Hyrule the First." A tall, barrel-chested man waved from a golden throne, his hair more salt than dark pepper, his mustache and beard generous. So this was the King of Hyrule, Link thought, not sure what to make of the man's gold-encrusted clothing.

"Queen Alia, of the Slainway line, of the highest rank." That would be the ethereal woman seated a few feet lower on a smaller, silver throne. She was breath-takingly lovely, and perfectly tiny and delicate, her lustrous hair white-gold, her figure voluptuous. Even from across the hall, Link could see her eyes were large and blue-purple. Queen Alia's skin was fair as alabaster, her cheeks rosy, her lips sensual and coral-colored. She wore a purple satin gown, fine gold chains hanging from her long ears and graceful neck.

"Duke Terifel Rauros, of the Rosethorn line, of the first rank…" Link ignored the Crier, choosing instead to look at all the people there, some appeared curious, some bored, others contemptuous. At last, Jasper the Royal Crier moved on to the noble children in attendance.

"The Crown Princess Zelda Harkinian Hyrule, of the highest rank, also of the Slainway line, of the first rank." This was the Crown Princess who supposedly loved books and learning? She didn't look it, a meek, attentive expression on her face. Zelda was tall for a girl, slender. She was fair-featured, with high prominent cheekbones and a straight, perfectly regal nose. Her hair was golden and wavy underneath her blue veil. She hadn't the beauty of her mother, but, Link supposed, that could be a good thing – at least she looked like belonged in this world, rather than off living with the Goddesses.

The Crier moved on to introduce the three younger Princesses.

Giada was seven, as rosy-cheeked as her mother, with dark hair and blue eyes.

Camara, four, wrinkled her button nose, kicking small feet. She was darker skinned than her sisters, with pale, thin hair.

Belisa, two, rested on her nursemaid's lap, drooling on the upholstery and idly kicking her legs. She was a lovely child, all fat and happy, with mouse brown hair.

"To the High Court, we welcome Duke Ganondorf Dragmire of the Gerudo Province, and also King of the Gerudo. He is of the first rank." A smattering of applause rang out through the chamber, and with great dignity, Ganondorf inclined his head to acknowledge the other nobles.

"We welcome also the Lord Link of the Gerudo, of the first rank, the heir to the Gerudo throne." The next wave of applause was a little louder. The Princess clapped gently, and her green eyes fixed on Link as he stepped forward to bow. He looked up, and noticed her gaze. Their eyes met, and immediately, they knew the other was completely and utterly bored. There was a calculating look in her eyes, and Link looked away. Not meek after all, he thought.

"The Lord Link of the Gerudo will be sponsored in his studies by Duke Fran of Imally, of the first rank, and Lord Ferrick Rauros, lord of the Sand Cat Estates in Crimen, of the Rosethorn line, of the third rank." More polite clapping.

Link, Ganondorf, Ferrick, Sir Fran, and Ruby were all invited to sit on beautifully upholstered chairs, and the King stood to make a speech, about 'a noble boy's duty to his realm and peers', and 'the coming of adulthood'. Link knew it all – he had been given a script to follow, same as the others. No one had deviated from the script in the slightest.

Why?

Was this all there was? Everything planned out to the slightest detail, and never improvised? Nothing new, only the same old protocols to exhaustively follow?

How did they get anything done here?

And, more importantly, how was Link going to accomplish his own agenda, if this was what he would have to do, _every single day?_

**Chapter Twenty-One: Of Peers**

"_It's a knockout  
If looks could kill, they probably will  
In games without frontiers-war without tears"_

Games Without Frontiers ~ Peter Gabriel

"So what do you think of the new boy, Zelda?" Kareena of Shadestall, second rank, asked, carefully smoothing the line of her newest dress (red silk, in the Haida style), which hung unflatteringly on her rail-thin frame.

"Harlan of Hillview, or Link of the Gerudo?" The Crown Princess wondered, spearing a piece of roast duck with a bit of brandied yam with her fork, and then held it up to idly examine.

"Link, of course." Gilda and Aileena said in unision.

"But Harlan is a very sweet young boy, did you see how well he rides-" The princess protested teasingly, letting the others take the opportunity to interrupt.

"Harlan is young, and fourth rank!" Aldrissa protested, and Zelda smiled faintly before devouring the food on her fork. Let Kareena worry and starve herself thin, and Aileena purge after a binge, Zelda enjoyed food, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"He seems… interesting. I can tell he is treading very, very carefully."

"He's gorgeous." Aldrissa sighed. Zelda allowed herself a grin.

"I hadn't noticed." She took a moment to examine her peers.

Aldrissa (of Hangonver) was her age, with a longish face, her hair pale, her eyes bright turquoise. She was of the first rank, and silly around boys.

Aileena of Riversbank was fourteen, with a lovely dark coloring, and pale, pale skin. She was of the third rank, but Zelda didn't mind.

Kareena was eleven, stick-thin, with glossy black hair, and blue eyes. She was of second rank, always flirting here and there, just brushing the edge of impropriety.

And finally, Gilda of Arrant, of the first rank, fifteen, and very proud of her curly brown hair and developing figure.

"I find it intriguing," Zelda said, "That he, a Hylian boy - Southern by his name - is to be heir to a Gerudo throne."

"I heard it was Duke Ganondorf who adopted him," Aldrissa said, "He once loved a Hylian woman, and adopted her son after her jealous husband killed her. It's very romantic." Zelda did her best not to laugh, and succeeded.

"Well either way, he is carrying himself well, considering he wasn't born nor raised to be nobility."

"Well said!" Gilda sighed, taking a long draught of cider.

"_I_ heard he plays an ocarina quite well. You should invite him to play for you!" Kareena suggested.

"And invite us so we can hear too!" Aileena added.

"I'll consider it." Zelda promised, then clapped her hands together. "Now, you all look positively famished. Don't hold back – this duck is delicious." She took a large, unladylike bite for effect.

"Oh, I couldn't…" Kareena fluttered.

"Aye? You'd better not faint in dancing forms instruction class, Kareen. I'd hate to be deprived of your graceful feet." She washed down poached pears with some water. "And Aileena, bile is a most unbecoming scent. Fill yourself with fruit and greens if you must gorge." Aileena flushed with shame, and inwardly, Zelda cursed. She'd gone too far. "I only wish," She said apologetically, "To see you eating healthily. You can't keep this unfortunate habit and hope to bear any heirs in the future. You want to have children for your husband someday, won't you?"

"Yes, but…" Aileena whispered, looking over at the Boy's table. "It's Danek. He's always looking over at me. I get nervous! And the food _is_good – it's comforting. And I don't know what to do!" Zelda frowned thoughtfully.

"Fidget with a hankerchief or some small bauble. A little visible anxiety isn't worth purging all the time."

"Oh, that's perfect!" Aileena exclaimed, "I will try that. Where do you come up with these things?"

"Books, of course!" Gilda laughed. "You had best watch yourself around the adults, dear Princess, or they'll think you'll addle your brains with all that reading."

"It's not my fault if I get lost in the library looking for some poetry or tales of courtly love, you know." And Zelda smiled, that subtle, secretive smile of hers, and let the other girls chatter on.

Sweat dripped down Link's brow, as he paced through the different barehanded combat forms in the pre-dawn dark. A single lantern was enough to light the courtyard his room opened into, a space which had turned out to be his and his alone. He was grateful for it – he could practice in the dark without fear of waking his neighbors.

He moved through a steady progression of forms – going through the sets twice – once for speed, the next more slowly, for power and precision. First Cat forms, then Ghost, and finishing with the difficult Mirage sets. The sky was just turning pale in the west when Link finished with his morning exercises. He walked over to a bench in the courtyard, and sat down to remove his wrist and ankle weights. A breeze made sweaty skin rise into goose bumps. Link waited until he'd caught his breath, then bundled up his equipment – a heavy, blunt practice sword, and his forms weights – and headed back into his rooms.

It was dawn by the time Link had finished washing up and had a good long soak in the steaming tub. Then it was time to get up, change into his fine Court clothes, and get ready for a long day of lessons with the other noble boys. After three weeks at the Castle, he knew the schedule well.

First Worship started at dawn. Breakfast was served two hours later. Lunch was served an hour before noon, followed by Second Worship at noon. Dinner was served four hours after noon, and Third Worship began at dusk. Supper was served an hour after Third Worship.

Sure enough, the various bells of the Palace began to ring just as the sun crested the horizon. There was a ten minute pause, and then the bells ran again, this time in harmony with each other. The first rings were wakening ones, the second ones a call to prayer. Link got up and lit a cone of incense, said a prayer to Din, and let the fragrant, cedar smoke fill his room.

Today was Sunday – which meant it would be academic lessons today. Moonsday was physical training, followed by more academia on Starsday, and then physical training again on Groundday. Highday was taken off, as it was a holy day of rest.

Link sighed, and headed for his work room, sliding onto the comfortable leather desk chair. These days he and his peers were studying the climates, growing conditions, and general natural resources of Hyrule, one province at a time. Right now, they were on the Province of the Crown, having just finished with Province of Arryn. It was mostly what Link had learned before, but there were just enough differences in the material to keep him interested. He flipped through the notes he'd taken, and the essay he had written on the particulars of mage-grown supplies in Arryn, before he decided he was satisfied with his work, and stuck it in his school satchel.

Right on time, Tanner checked on his charge a half hour after First Worship, and Link offered his caretaker a mug of instant _Kalika_, which the man readily accepted. Tanner had been wary at first, but had quickly grown to like the drink. There was no lift of energy like from coffee, but there was no crash either, just the sharp, invigorating taste of citrus and mint. As they nursed their drinks, Link outlined his plans for the day to his servant, who decided that class, an afternoon nap, a trip to the library, independent study, and then maybe a swim in the Castle's swimming pond was acceptable, so long as Link wore a swimming costume and did not go skinny-dipping - as he was sure the boy would prefer. That issue resolved, Tanner answered several of Link's questions about servant life in the Castle, and agreed to let Link meet his family some day.

The remaining hour before breakfast was spent next door, plotting with Ganondorf in private.

Then it was time for the first meal of the day.

"I don't get it, Link." Arek said at breakfast, cramming a wad of venison bacon into his mouth, and chewing thoroughly.

"Get what?" Link wondered, shoveling down fruit salad, "I'm all ears."

"Why do you let Karlen get to you like that? He's going to kill you, come this afternoon." And Arek, the only natural redhead in Link's group of friends, glanced at the other end of the Boy's table nervously, at which the bullying trio of Karlen of Rosethorn, Finnes of Riverside, and Arris of Stonewall sat.

"Yes, Link," said Danek, the oldest of the group at age fourteen, "I was wondering the same thing. He has a whole foot on you, height-wise."

Link sighed. He'd underestimated his position early on. He had thought Sir Fran's advice on dealing with critics would solve everything – it did not. Instead, he'd charged in head-first, eager to make connections vital for the Gerudo Province amongst a group of Northerners. Instead, he'd befriended two Southerners – laid-back, fourteen-year old Danek of Kelyeso in Lake Hylia, and twelve year old Arek of Heartsrest in Lakeland Province. Young Harlan of Hillview was a Northerner, but of the fourth rank, and thus barely a noble in the eyes of anyone at Court. Instead, fifteen-year old Karlen grew to despise him, and turned his cronies against Link.

Too late to fix it diplomatically. Instead Link would have to manipulate Karlen through animosity. With long, white-blonde hair and grey eyes, Karlen thought himself quite the looker. And he would be, at least by Hylian standards – his ears were particularly long, and drooped slightly, which made him look, Link thought rather savagely, like an over-heated desert hare.

He fiercely missed sensible female company. These noble Hylian girls, all they did was giggle at him, say something inane, or worse, stare. Back at the Fortress he'd been just another person, young and eager to learn. All right, his nose was a little too small, his skin too pale, and his male… equipment… pointed out and laughed at by little girls at the Bathing Pool, who were then scolded by their mothers and step-mothers for being rude. Such things stuck in a child's mind.

It was quite a shock to find that the noble girls thought he looked handsome. Karlen had noticed this, and now thought of Link as a rival. It had been quite beyond Link, why such an older boy thought he was a threat, until Danek pointed it out.

"Karlen sees you as a rival to the Princess Zelda's affections."

"But why?" Link groaned, "He's the heir to the oldest noble line in the entire country! And I'm-"

"Smart." Arek put in.

"Nice." Harlan added.

"Up-and-coming, and of the first rank." Danek finished.

"Please, Danek." Link dismissed, "So are you, and Lake Hylian Province is one of the richest in the country."

"I know. That's why I was engaged to one of the Princess's cousins when I was six." Link froze.

"Oh." He said heavily. Danek shrugged.

"So tell me again why you're fighting Karlen this evening at the swimming pond, when he has a great deal more reach and training than you?"

"Because he called Gerudo women sluts." Link said darkly. Karlen had actually said much worse, but it wasn't fit for ten-year old Harlan's ears. "So I called him a warty pillock who wouldn't know a good woman from a syphilis-ridden skirt-lifter." Link grinned at his more agreeable peers. "And that's when he challenged me to meet him 'on the field of honor.' Can you believe that? 'On the field of honor…' At the Fortress girls don't give you any warning they want to hit you – they just do. I know a girl who could knock him flat on his rear, without breaking a sweat."

"Do you _like_pain, Link?" Arek wanted to know, staring at him. "He's trained for three more years than you, and he's really good at fighting!"

"Don't worry about me," Link said confidently, "He'll get his."

"…You're really weird, Link." Harlan said, also staring.

"I'll speak for you at your funeral, Link, it should be soon."

"Hey!" He exclaimed, outraged. His 'friends' just shook their heads.

Karlen was scolded by Master Demensal for daydreaming during etiquette class, to Link's glee. After he was caught, Link noticed Karlen glaring in his direction, rather than focusing on the lesson. Obviously Karlen followed a one-thing-at-a-time method of operating, which meant he probably wouldn't be good for much in real politics.

Link was too excited after his classes to take his usual noon-time nap. The heat back in the desert was excruciating in the afternoon, so everyone slept during the hottest hours of the day. He stretched so he would be limber for the fight, then dressed in his swimming costume. The fight was due for an hour past noon. Eager, he went out into the courtyard and went very slowly through the Sand Cat forms to keep his mind busy until the appointed time, focusing on precision over power or speed.

His waiting over, he took a long drink of water, then locked his rooms up and headed through the corridors of the palace to the swimming pond.

"Hush! He's here!" Zelda admonished her friends, as Karlen of Rosethorn entered the pond area. Aldrissa and Aileena smothered their giggles. All five girls were gathered around a wide, second-floor window in the Red Wing, eagerly awaiting the fight Karlen had initiated to clear his honor. Link of the Gerudo stood flanked by Danek of Kelyeso, and Arek of Heartsrest. Arris of Stonewall and Finnes of Riverside were waiting for their leader.

Silently, the two boys squared off on the flattest part of the grassy area around the pond. Karlen had a foot's worth of growth on Link, and was stockier. Yet Link did not appear to be intimidated, and Zelda wondered what kind of secret advantage he held, if any. Was it confidence or arrogance?

A gasp from Gilda drew the princess out of her thoughts. Karlen had taken the lead, aggressively attacking, while Link easily circled out of the way, feinting, and doing his best to get under his opponent's guard. Karlen took a fist to the eye, and lunged, grabbing Link and grappling with him, trying to wrestle the younger boy to the ground. Link struggled, contorted his body in an unusual manner, and popped free of Karlen's grip. Karlen was clearly getting tired, and his face was red with rage. He typically counted on ending his fights quickly, and things were not going well. The two backed away, to catch their breath, when Karlen charged at the smaller boy, crying out,

"For the Princess Zelda!" Zelda groaned in exasperation, but watched intently. Link dodged the first lunge, stepping aside deftly, then moved out of stance, shifting subtly. What was he doing? Zelda wondered, puzzled by the crafty look in his blue eyes. Or was it tiredness? Who knew?

Karlen charged again, and Link didn't get out of the way in time. Instead he slipped on a patch of mud. Off balance, Karlen's attack sent him flying into the shallow end of the pond. Beside Zelda, Gilda snickered, Kareena gasped in surprise, and Aldrissa groaned her disappointment. Zelda herself just grit her teeth. So it had been arrogance after all, she thought sadly. She'd been so sure he'd take Karlen down a notch, like Karlen deserved.

Link rose to the surface, sputtering. Karlen roared with smug laughter.

"All right, Karlen of Rosethorn," Link hollered, treading water, "You're good! And you've got a foot's reach on me. But I'll fight you again if you keep insulting my people!"

"Fine! Fine. You're not as girly as I thought." Karlen said righteously, "But don't think you could have won. It will be years before you reach my current level." The Rosethorn heir, one eye bruised and swelling, turned his face up to the window where the girls stood watching. He bowed elegantly, "My Princess Zelda! I won this duel in your name! Bestow upon me a token, to match my devotion to you!"

Zelda smiled sweetly, and gestured urgently to Gilda behind her back.

"Gilda?" She said softly, "You like him don't you? I must give Karlen a token." Wordlessly, Gilda pressed a finely embroidered hankerchief into her princess's hand. Zelda opened the window wider, and let the small square of fine cotton drift into Karlen's outstretched hand.

"Here, good sir!" The princess said, keeping her voice sweet and musical, "A token from one who appreciates your skill in battle. May you win many more, that is the wish of this token!" Karlen raised the cloth to his lips, bowing once more.

"Fair Princess! I will keep it close to my heart." He tucked it into his breast pocket. "Farewell!" He strode out of the swimming area, a little more swagger in his stride than was usual. Arris and Finnes followed him out. Link splashed at his friends, grinning cheekily.

"C'mon in! The water's warm from the sun. Oh!" He looked up at the girls, then smiled charmingly. "Good day to you, lovely ladies and Princess!" He saluted Zelda in the proper manner, and struck out with long, easy strokes to the center of the Swimming Pond. Danek watched on in amusement, while Arek began to strip down to his swimming costume.

Zelda stifled a giggle, and turned to her friends.

"Well!" She exclaimed, "That certainly was entertaining. And now, Gilda, Karlen treasures a token of yours."

"Bestowed from your hand." Gilda said faintly.

"Nonsense. It was your embroidery on it. You cut the cloth to the proper size. It is your token, and I merely said the words for you. I have no interest in Karlen of Rosethorn."

"So you've said." Gilda murmured.

"Yes, I did say." Zelda chided, smiling triumphantly.

The swimming costume had hidden most of his bruising from his allies, Link reflected, looking at himself in the mirror. Still, a victory was a victory, even if it wasn't apparent to anyone else.

He pulled out a jar of bruise balm, and began anointing the purpling marks, rubbing carefully. They were tender now, particularly the one on his knee. Link sighed, and ignored his rumbling belly. He'd skipped dinner – there was no time to eat if he wanted to complete his punishment assignment. Master Demensal had discovered the afternoon fight, and set both Karlen and Link to complete an essay on the merits of polite debate over vulgarly resorting to fisticuffs to determine matters. Now, at eleven at night, the paper was complete, and Link was starving. Usually he would simply eat in the dining area of his rooms, devouring something from the cupboards, but he'd eaten the last slice of bread this morning before practicing his forms before sunup.

Finished with the bruise balm, he had just put his clothes back on when there was a firm knock at the inner front door of his rooms. A quick look revealed the face of Sir Fran, one of his sponsors, carrying a platter with a plate of food on it. He hastily unlocked the door.

"Duke Fran! It's fairly late."

"Yep, it is. Lemme in, boy. 'S serious." The look on the man's face was grave, and Link hurriedly let his sponsor in, locking the door behind him. Fran carried the platter to the table in the dining area, and Link eyed him speculatively. Fran was an excellent fighter, just as good as Ganondorf was, and full of stories of his time as a knight and vassal, long before he'd become a duke.

Fran laid the platter down and Link uncovered it eagerly, revealing a bowl of beef stew, and several buttery rolls, along with a mug of tea. The older man signed the sigils for privacy and silence, letting the air pulse pale green in confirmation of a successful casting, before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Food's for you, Link." Fran said, his voice abruptly losing the lower-class slur, his words crisp and precise. His accent was still that of Imally, but clearly not the lower class intonation he typically used. "Don't look so alarmed, lad. I'm pulling the wool over these Northern fools, same as you are. Ferrick Rauros didn't just pick my name out of a hat."

"I'm just acting friendly!" Link said sharply, incensed.

"Yes, and you'd better sharpen up your act, youngin', or the only allies you'll fool into backing you will be Southern ones. And that, my boy, is no accomplishment."

"So why do you act so dumb?"

"That's a long story, son." Link shrugged.

"I've got all night, Sir Fran."

"Suit yourself. I'm the bastard son of the old Duke, and a daughter of a wealthy lumber boss. I was raised right in the heart of the city, Imally that is, by my mama and the good man she married. He was a soldier, raised me to be the same, but I had bigger goals. I eked out a homestead right against the forest, did pretty well for myself. I married my wife Anna, had three sons and a daughter. I was good at leading, and sure enough, soon I was mayor of Treefall. Funny thing about the South, Link, most of those in charge don't got much blue blood, not by Northern standards. Most of the nobles down there are younger sons who took a chance and did well for themselves. But ol' Duke Breyer of Imally, he was blue. And a glutton! Him and his sons, they were all fat as a cow before slaughter. He died of a heart attack, so did his second son. The first fell off a horse funny, the last of the blood disease people that big get. And then there were none of that line but me.

"Province of Imally, the only leylines are on the north'most edge of it. You want a fast message, you send it on a horse, not leylines. It's a territory cut off from the others, and we like it that way. Times were bad, Link. The nip flies there carry the wasting fever, and the Province needed a leader fast. But there was no one of the blood, but for me. So those leaders of the Province, the civilians and commoners, they taught me what they could, and made me a Duke. I ran things like I ran Treefall, and we wiped out the nip-flies, and stopped the wasting fever for good. And once I'd gotten the hang of ruling, once Imally was really rolling in rupees, in comes the North. They said I wasn't blue enough. Said I needed to be replaced by another fat Northman, who'd kiss the gilded toe of the King on bended knee. I wasn't having with that. They tried to take back the ruling-seat, but my people wouldn't have that. Imally is rich, we can manufacture anything. Lumber, spices, truffles, steel, weapons and enough liquor to sate any lumberjack's thirst. We have more people in our Province than any other, and all of them are commoners. The Court said I was to back down, and Imally wouldn't have it. They said they'd rise up against the North if I wasn't their Duke, and they would have won, too. We'd have won too, made Imally a country rather than a province.

"But those Northerners weren't complete fools. They knighted me, made me official, and said I could keep Imally so long as I lived at Court. They said since I was a noble now, my own Anna couldn't be my wife anymore, and my own children would not inherit everything I earned for them.

"They wait, them Northerners are just waiting for an excuse to replace me. So I act the fool. Anna and my stewards run the Province in my stead, and they've declared their allegiance – they leave if I do. So I'm 'stupid, illiterate Fran, but his people will walk if he ain't in charge.' They humor me, and throw their dainty, weak Northern women at me, hoping for a marriage.

"One day the South will have had enough, Link. One day we'll get sick of the Northern nobles squandering our rupees and telling us what to do. We'll rise up and take back everything we sweated for. That day is coming sooner than you think, and I will not let a child like you ruin one iota of it for us. You are not just working for the Gerudo, Link. You're working for the South." Fran stood up from the table, and cancelled the privacy spell. "Remember that as you dally with your Southern allies. I expect to see results, and soon. Good night, Link."

"Does Ferrick or Ganondorf know about this?" The boy wanted to know, "Do they know you're only faking a fool?"

"They do now."

And Sir Fran left, leaving Link thunderstruck and suddenly, not that hungry anymore.

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Of Inquiries**

"_You know the way that things go  
When what you fight for starts to fall  
And in that fuzzy picture  
The writing stands out on the wall  
So clearly on the wall…"_

Signal to Noise ~ Peter Gabriel

Link wearily rubbed his face, the circles under his eyes dark and sunken in the bright morning light. It had been a bad night. Ganondorf was to leave this afternoon. Link hadn't meant to have a fight with his step-father, but all his anxieties had come spilling out, and the King hadn't reacted well. He'd shouted and raved in the darkness of Link's courtyard, gesticulating wildly.

No letters to Reya, Aru, or his aunts. Ganondorf had even forbidden messages to his own mother!

These and other things had begun to bother him more and more the longer he was in the Capitol. Where did the plotting of the Southern Lords fit into Ganondorf's grand plans? And why hadn't he been told of the current political climate? Half of the country ready to rebel was a fairly necessary thing to know! Link didn't care much for politics, or these overfed nobles, but the kids were all right, considering the way they'd been brought up.

The promises he'd made…

Link had sworn an oath on his own blood.

He was part of something no normal twelve year old would take part in. All for the betterment of the Gerudo, and perhaps the South as well, Link supposed, as Ganondorf still did not see fit to let him see the entire picture of what was going on, what was being planned.

Some of what Ganondorf had said was true. He was starting to care too much, and about the wrong people. Too far into his cover, and things were starting to leak into his carefully guarded true self. They were all Hylians, of the same race that had abandoned him as an infant, the same race that tried to kill Ganondorf so many times, the same race that had killed Rabiyu. The same race that Link was beginning to realize was of his own blood.

He'd taken an oath!

Link groaned quietly as he picked at his milk toast, not noticing the Crown Princess's concerned gaze from the Girl's Table.

With Ganondorf's departure, Link was allowed to take the day off. In a private moment, just before he left, Ganondorf apologized for his outburst.

"But for Din's sake, Link, you need to stay on target with the plan. Much depends on you."

Link sighed.

"Understood. I'll do my best. I promised, after all."

"Good. Farewell, Link. I will see you in a year." Ganondorf swung up onto the wagon's bench. "Oh yes, and I have set you up with an account at the Castle leyline message center. You have enough credit to send one twenty-rupee message over the lines to the Fortress per month. Goodbye!" And the Gerudo king urged the horses into a trot, leaving Link behind.

Twenty-rupees only bought about a thirty word message. Still, it was better than nothing, as Link watched Ganondorf disappear around the curve of the road. Link sighed, alone again, and trudged back up the hill, where a young woman was waiting with a message for him.

"Thank you, Deana." He said to the messenger girl, who nodded. Like his stepfather, Link had made it a habit to learn the name of every servant he met. Building rapport with possible allies, Ganondorf had called it.

"From Princess Zelda." She whispered, then curtsied and walked back to the Castle.

He walked back to the Castle grounds. Link found a secluded part of a nearby garden, and sitting down against the sturdy trunk of a abayla tree, opened the sealed message.

_To Lord Link of the Gerudo, heir to the Gerudo throne, of the first rank,_ it began in a firm, feminine hand.

_I and my peers, Ladies Gilda of Arrant, of the first rank, Lady Aldissa of Hangonver, of the first rank, Lady Kareena of Shadestall, of the second rank, and Aileena of Riversbank, of the third rank, invite you to play music with us this evening, one hour after dinner, in the Pheasant Salon of the Gold Wing._

_I know you may be feeling lonely, with your father's departure. Perhaps a little company will lighten your mood._

_Awaiting your response,_

_Crown Princess Zelda Harkinian Hyrule._

Dressed smartly and feeling excited, Link rapped gently on the tall door of the Pheasant Salon, ocarina in hand. A heavily muscled Sheikah woman opened the door, eyed him carefully with a red gaze, and waved him in with a calloused hand.

"Hullo," Link said, smiling as charmingly as he could, "You must be the Lady Impa."

Impa Lunastet, a rare almost fully-blooded Sheikah, was the Princess's nursemaid, handmaid, and bodyguard, all in one lithe, deadly package. Impa's paternal grandmother had been a Hylian noble, making Impa of the third rank. However, her influence was greater, because she was in line to the ruling-seat of Kakariko, one of the few cities left that the Sheikah had founded. These days Sheikah either assimilated and bred into the Hylian culture, or lived a life constantly on the road.

For some reason, whenever people had talked of the Lady Impa, he'd always imagined her in a steel bustier. Seeing her now, he was pleased to have been wrong. Impa was clothed in buff-hued leggings and a deep navy jerkin, her powerful arms left bare, her feet shod in knee-high, flexible soled boots. Her hair was wild and curly grey, and she had a short sword strapped to the small of her back, and two sturdy batons fixed to each thigh. Those batons were probably weighted with lead, Link thought.

"The ladies have been waiting for you, young master Link." She said, her voice dry and low.

"But I'm right on time!" Link protested, and checked his timepiece despite himself. A wry smiled bloomed slowly on Impa's generous mouth.

"It is the nature of such young, noble ladies to gather early, preen themselves to perfection, and then…" Her ruby eyes sparkled with mirth, "Giggle about the planned activity." Link coughed out a chuckle. She really wasn't as bad as Finnes or Arek had made her out to be. Impa ushered him into a high-ceilinged salon decorated with a sky blue and silver wallpaper with a lacy cloud motif, and took her accustomed place leaning against the salon door.

Link took in the room, and then the girls. He knew them by face and name, if not personally. Aileena and Aldrissa were both in understated green gowns, possibly to acknowledge his lodgings in the Green Wing. Kareena was in a frothy pink confection that did much to conceal how thin she was, while Gilda wore a deep red dress that showed far less of her scant cleavage than usual. Link's suspicion she held a candle for Karlen was confirmed.

Zelda herself sat in the midst of her friends, clad in a dress of a vibrant shade of green that matched her eyes, cut in the modest Southern style, all classic, flowing lines. He could appreciate the gesture.

Link gathered himself, bowed formally to each girl, then let a smile spread cheekily across his face.

"Good evening! A pleasure to meet you all." The girls murmured their welcome. "So ladies, I beg someone, please tell me why this room is called the Pheasant Salon?"

Zelda grinned.

"The old wallpaper used to be that of pheasants in the field, but it was sorely out of date, so the décor was changed, and the name remained the same."

"I see."

The next twenty minutes consisted of idle chatter with the five girls. Kareena showed herself to be a decent conversationalist, though Zelda far outshone her when it came to insight and knowledge. It was a pleasant way to pass the time, until Gilda of Arrant remarked tartly that the plan was to play music together, not chit chat.

Zelda agreed easily enough, and rose from her seat in the ring of wide-seated, brocade-upholstered armchairs the children had made, to fetch a lap harp from a table. Aldrissa took up her recorder, while Gilda hoisted a lute onto her lap. Aileena and Kareena sat themselves on the bench of the beautifully carved harpsichord nearby, their delicate fingers ready to play a duet.

"Shall we begin with 'Cradle in the Field'?" Zelda inquired, and the girls nodded, as did Link, who knew many classic Hylian songs from a book of music he'd received on his last birthday.

They played that one, then all the court favorites. The harpsichord, a newly patented instrument, sounded good, but Aileena and Kareena were hesitant on it. Gilda fumbled chords sometimes. Aldrissa was good, but Zelda was better, her fingering deft, with a perfect sense of pitch and rhythm.

The instruments were more beautiful even then their players, all of the highest quality, of course. The harpsichord was of ebony, the keys fine ivory, the casing painted in a scene of the central Curled Backbone Range, the mountains snow-capped, the gold-leaf sun and its rays spilling through the gaps in the peaks onto a tranquil scene of a mountain meadow filled with flowers. Gilda's rosewood lute was elaborately carved, the frets pewter, the tuning pins, neck, and face inlaid with mother-of-pearl, probably from Lake Hylia or Zora's Domain. Aldrissa's recorder was moons-cured abayla wood, simple and clean, but the cured wood was ridiculously expensive. Zelda's harp was mahogany wood, with delicate silver leaf accents, the strings white behemoth silk, which was a type of giant silk moth found in Rainfall Province. That little lap harp was a masterpiece, and the Princess played it well.

With at least one other talented musician to play with, Link was able to ignore the other's mistakes, and played his way through ballads, waltzes, marches, and then religious music. At last, the girls ran out of music. The two on the harpsichord began to flex tired fingers, and Gilda's chords and fretwork were starting to weaken.

He laid his ocarina down.

"With the exception of the Princess, my ladies, am I right in guessing you're getting tired?" Aileena and Kareen murmured agreement.

Gilda laughed softly.

"I'm going to need an entire jar of hand cream to soothe the blisters _I'm_going to have." Link considered this, then turned to the princess.

"Princess Zelda? Would you like to play on, but let the ladies rest?" Then a thought came to him. "I could teach you a few songs from the Gerudo Province."

Zelda smiled genteelly, and said she didn't mind. But from the gleam in her green eyes, she was very eager to learn the songs. Link allowed himself to smile a tad wider than was considered polite.

"Great. This first song is the Gerudo Wedding Dance, now the anthem of our province." And he struck up the melody of the sultry flamenco he'd heard and played at so many weddings at the Fortress.

Supper was the last and fourth meal of the day, and it was always the most elaborate. Link had played up quite the appetite, and ate heartily.

Before he had arrived at the Castle, he had not been looking forward to ten courses per meal, but fortunately, the courses were very small. They were mostly meat and starch, so Link sought the advice of Tanner and Ruby Yannoska, who directed him to speak with Kancha, the head cook.

Through a liberal application of charm, and a little bartering, Kancha agreed to have Lirina, the girl who served the Boy's Table, set out a few, healthier, lighter dishes just for Link, with more vegetables. In return, Link would procure the recipes for certain classic Gerudo dishes, to be used in the kitchens as regular feasts.

Despite still viewing the Gerudo women as savages, Gerudo culture had become wildly popular at Court, first when the small nation had become a Hyrulean Province, and then when Ganondorf had come to the Castle with Link. All the women wanted fine silks and batiks like Queen Alia and the princesses been presented with. A feast with authentic Gerudo food would be impressive, and would put Kancha into fresh favor with the court for at least a year. Link agreed readily enough, and used up his precious monthly leyline messaging allowance to request the recipes, sacrificing communication with his family in order to earn Kancha's favor.

Now, Link enjoyed a salad of spinach and lettuce, while the other boys ate wilted spinach smothered with cream and cheese. Link supposed they had had enough of vegetables, in a place where they could be grown so easily. But in the Gerudo Province, vegetables had to be time-sealed to survive the heat of the desert and scrub without spoiling. And time-sealing, as Link now knew, left a slight bitterness fresh food did not carry. The other boys teased him for his open enjoyment of vegetables – but Link knew quite well what a healthy Gerudo body needed to perform well, as every girl did in a Fortress where food was rationed to keep everyone not just alive, but thriving.

Tonight's supper seemed to be yet another ode to cream and butter.

When Ferrick had told him Northern lords liked rich food, Link had had no idea how true that was…

That night, after the final meal, Link trudged through the halls of the Great Hall, past the Old Wing, and into the locked gate that led to the servant's path which connected to all the courtyards. He hadn't had any more trouble with Karlen after the fight, but it was wise to stay of his path, especially since they both lived in the Green Wing. It was also wise to know the servants' ways. After a little creative lock picking, Ganondorf had given him a replica of the servant's keys. A quick, sneaky little tune on the ocarina ensured no one noticed his trespassing.

He trotted down the dark paths, his way lit by full, fat Luna, and blue, egg-shaped little Seles, wobbling as it traversed the skies. Seles made a full circuit of Vanity every hour.

Link yawned, and unlocked the hidden gate to his own private courtyard. Strange, his room was lit from within. Link was sure he had deactivated the lightstone lamps in his quarters. Blinking in confusion, his night-sight now effectively shot, he fumbled the key, and someone from inside opened the patio door for him.

It was Tanner.

"Come in, Master Link."

"All… right?" Tanner led an unprotesting, befuddled boy to the dining area, where Ruby, Chase, Deana, Lirina, and Kancha waited at the table.

"So how was she, in person?" Ruby, clearly the leader, wished to know. "The Princess," she said impatiently when Link stared in incomprehension.

"Gentle, graceful, and far, far smarter than she acts." He said, shrugging one shoulder.

"I thought so!" Kancha the head cook leaned back in her chair in deep satisfaction. She had appropriated Link's favorite armchair and dragged it to the table. Link couldn't bring himself to care – she had probably been on her feet all day, and, (and it was a very important and,) she had kept her word and fed him lighter dishes by way of Lirina. "So have you sent your letters to your home Province? Should I expect those recipes in two months, depending on weather and travel conditions?"

"No. I sent for them over the leylines." Kancha stared.

"By leyline! My young Lord, those messages are expensive! You didn't need… I mean…"

"I have a leyline allowance, Mistress Kancha," Link dismissed, then grinned. "What better way to promote the Gerudo to the nobility than to feed them our food?" Kancha's broad, generous lipped face broke out into an expression of glee.

"What better way indeed! You will have to test my first tries, to ensure the food is an authentic sample of your people's food, my dear boy." She nudged Lirina with an elbow. "I told you he was what I told you. I told you!"

"Wait - - what?" Link wanted to know.

"Link, it is common knowledge amongst the servants that you are not noble-born." Tanner explained, taking a seat next to his charge. "We have waited to see if you would act like any noble or wealthy man too big for his breeches. But you proved many wrong."

"Um… Good?" Ruby tsked under her breath.

"Fools, the lot of you." She said impatiently, "He's a lowborn noble _boy_, and don't any of you forget it. Place your hopes and dreams on him at a more reasonable time of day, when it isn't twelve at night and he's been up since far before dawn. If you must do so, leave me the messages and they'll find their way to Link. Is that acceptable?" The Mistress of the Green Wing eyed the other servants with a dark gaze.

"Yes, fine." Deana said warily, "But how can we trust you?"

"Because I said you can. It's been a long day, and I haven't the energy to persuade you all. Needless to say, Deana, you and I are the only noble-bloods in this room, so you might want to watch your own steps first." Ruby rose to her feet, and briskly straightened her (as always) green dress. "Kancha," She said politely, inclining her head at the head cook.

"Careful, Madam Yannoska." The large woman said with great dignity, "It is always a long day when you are a servant."

"Indeed. Now if you've all finished worrying about my loyalties, why don't we leave and let poor, young master Link get a little rest after an important day?"

Suddenly remembering themselves, Lirina, Deana, and Chase bolted to their feet. Kancha heaved herself out of her chair, accepting Tanner's help with a gracious nod. Kancha and Lirina left together, as did Deana and Ruby. Chase left alone.

"So what was that all about?" Link wanted to know. Tanner just shook his head.

"I'll explain in the morning. It's time for bed, but I think it would be best to wash up, and you may read for one hour, and then lights out."

"Okay." Link agreed easily, and headed for the bathroom.

It _had_ been a long day, after all.

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Of Celebrations**

"_In each one of us  
A dream can burn like the sun  
Let's try it all one more time  
To get this lesson learned"_

Make Tomorrow ~ Peter Gabriel

The next months passed quickly, and Link only caught rare glimpses of the Princess Zelda in the halls or in the Library as he went about his studies.

Tredecim, the thirteenth month of twenty. It was an important month, as the entire Castle geared itself up for the Crown Princess's birthday on the sixteenth. Her twelfth birthday, a day of great importance since Hylian girls began to grow into womanhood – rising from childhood to maidenhood starting that year.

Link was accustomed to birthday celebrations at the Fortress. On a woman's birthday, she was exempt from work or training, allowed to laze the day away. She was allowed to choose one dish per meal for the cooks to cook, within reason. Ganondorf would congratulate her openly at dinner, and then afterwards, those close to her would give her simple presents.

Sure, Rabiyu's birthday celebration lasted two days. And Ganondorf had taken the throne on his fifteenth birthday, so the five day, weeklong festivities honored both the King's birthday, and the latest year of his reign. Nabooru's wedding to Ganondorf had also been a weeklong celebration, although Link had been an infant at the time and had to reconstruct the event on hearsay alone.

But three weeks worth of festivities? This was ridiculous.

The meals for the next three weeks were determined by Zelda herself. She chose a very diplomatic way of feeding the Castle. Each day featured the traditional dishes of one of the ten Provinces. For the remaining five days, she chose two days of Province of the Crown meals, two days of food from the Lakeland Province – the homeland of her mother, Queen Alia – and, to Link' surprise, one more day of Gerudo food.

As the days wound down, the Castle's inhabitants got more and more excited. Zelda's sisters, Giada, Camara, and Belisa were given gifts so they weren't jealous of their older sister. During his stay at the Castle, Link had seen very little of the little princesses. The three were wisely kept out of the main traffic of Hyrule Castle, and only appeared outside the Golden Wing during meals.

Finally, the day had come – the opening of Zelda's gifts.

The day was sunny and fair-skied, so the wrapped presents were arranged on tables in the meadow that lay between the castle moat and the gated road that led to the city. The grass was well-clipped and fragrant. Songbirds sang in the rose bushes and trees, attracted by a magical summoning, the spell overpowering the creatures' fear of people. Golden-trunked abayla trees provided shade, their many-colored papery leaves rustling in the warm breeze in jewel shades of blue, red, green, and amethyst.

Too many presents to count. There were gifts from every Duke, Count, Earl, and Baron's respective holdings.

The presents varied, finely boned horses and ponies from Arrant in the Plains Province, oil paintings from Rosethorn, a finely crafted, elaborate animated clock from Imally, and a long bolt of cloth of gold from Arryn were the highlights. Even the Gorons and Zora came out of isolation to send a tribute to the Crown Princess – Massive diamonds from the Gorons, and a tiara of mother-of-pearl and black pearls from the Zora. Each gift Zelda received with polite appreciation, so Link couldn't judge how she liked the gifts the Gerudo sent – feminine finery such as modest silken dresses in the Amazon style, and soaps and perfumes scented with frankincense and exotic spices.

Once the presents were unwrapped, servants carted them away into the Castle, while Zelda made the rounds thanking the nobility present for their gifts.

Link shifted his weight onto his back leg, leaning against the trunk of a particularly magnificent abayla tree and observing the Princess quietly. He had not picked the gifts the Gerudo Province had sent, nor Ganondorf, though they represented the nation. Those gifts were meant to be presents from a female nation to a female Princess. He caught the eye of Deana, the dark-eyed messenger girl, and she meandered into the shade of Link's abayla tree.

"You wanted me, my lord?" She queried, her curtness sweeping the skirts of a lovely high-necked gown colored a subtle golden brown.

"Thank you, Deana," He said, nodding politely, "Do you have the clearance or favor to carry a message to the Lady Impa?"

"Not if you want it to reach her ears today, Master Link." She said, her words formal, but her expression intent and quite clear – was this a business of secrets? Away from the crowd, in the shade, they could not be seen, but they could be heard, easily. Caution was therefore necessary. Link winked at Deana, who smiled back faintly.

"Can you get it to her in a week?"

"Certainly!"

"Then take this -" He pressed a small box into her hands. She slipped it in her message satchel. "Instruct her to open it in private." Deana nodded.

"Very well."

"Thank you, Deana. You are dismissed."

"Yes, my lord." She winked back, curtsied again, and left the abayla tree's shade to melt into the crowd in that quick, dutiful way of hers. If Deana had not been a decade older than Link, he might have developed some kind of romantic interest in her. Since that was not the case, he merely enjoyed her company.

The outdoor party seemed to be winding down when a small cart was rolled into the meadow. Ferrick Rauros stepped forth, Sir Fran one step behind him.

"My lady, the Crown Princess Zelda. Please forgive us for coming so late. This final present arrived later than we had hoped."

Zelda nodded regally.

"You are forgiven. What is this present?"

"For many years now, the ridge-cat has been a symbol of courage, loyalty, and the protection of the weak in Southern Hyrule. It is a lucky man who is paired with a ridge-cat to protect his land and his neighbors from the cursed Wolfos. When you reach your majority, it is you who will be Protectress of Hyrule. And so, we gift you with the pick of the litter – a cub of your own to raise and be protected by." Zelda was, much like the rest of the noble crowd, wide-eyed in surprise. But where some had expressions of dismay, Zelda was eager. Sir Fran theatrically pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the covered cage on the cart. He reached in, pulled out a large basket, and laid it at the princess's feet.

"All them kits are borne by she-cat Yana, from Imally, sired by Elbion, a ridge-cat of Slainway. They be not weaned yet, but they will be soon." Fran said as Zelda bent to stroke their downy heads.

"You needn't make a choice today, my lady." Ferrick added. Zelda nodded to herself.

"What, Lord Ferrick, would you recommend?" She said shyly, and Ferrick smiled.

"My lady, I would recommend playing with each cub for a little, making repeated interactions so you can ascertain their true personalities, and speak with Yana's master, the honorable Heggan Wayfarer."

"I shall take your advice, Lord Ferrick, and give you my thanks."

"Very good, Crown Princess Zelda." Ferrick bowed deeply, and sidled away so as not to rudely show the princess his back. Fran hummed to himself, pleased, and placed the basket of kittens back into the cage, locking it securely. He clapped his hands and whistled, signaling the menservants to take the cage up to the castle. Zelda smiled as they left, then turned her attention back to her admirers and well-wishers.

Unwatched, Ferrick spotted Link under his tree, and slid next to him.

"Do they really need to be caged?" Link murmured, cocking an eyebrow in query. "Ridge-cats are the symbol of the South. It's not exactly a great metaphor."

"The bars are for the cubs' safety." Ferrick replied, "And the South is caged by the North, but note – it will be Zelda who chooses and frees one of the cubs from the cage. She will welcome the essence of the South into her heart, home, and very likely, it will sleep devotedly on her bed." Link's blue eyes widened in realization.

"You want Zelda to favor and marry a Southern heir, then. You want a king from the South."

"Excellent deduction, Link." Ferrick praised, gawky face beaming. "Yes, that would be ideal."

"Zelda fancies you, you know." Link said, and Ferrick's smile faded.

"I had heard."

"What are you going to do about it?" He prodded. The older Hylian shook his head.

"Discourage it. Redirect it. I will never marry again. Besides, I'm only third rank."

"But you come from the oldest noble line in the entire country." Link said, playing the demon's advocate, "You're smart, patient, run a successful holding, know magic and the war arts, are from both North and South, sort of, and she likes you."

"Link," Ferrick said ruefully, "If those were the criteria, and Fran were neither married or such a liar, he would already be King. No, lad, you're our best hope." The older man smirked as Link's jaw dropped. "Surprised? Think about it – neither you nor the Princess herself are what you seem. So mull this over. You know how to reach me – and I've been watching you - don't slack in your studies, all right? Good day, Link, heir to the Gerudo seat, lordling of the first rank." Ferrick smiled wryly, pushing brown hair out of his face, and left a flabbergasted Link behind.

Impa eyed the package the messenger girl Deana had given her, with some distrust. While young Link was a pleasant acting boy, her sharp Sheikah eyes saw he was hiding something. It seemed like the same deception Zelda practiced, to be sure, but better to be wary.

Bright little Deana had said to open it in private, so Impa brought the little package into the living room of her set of rooms. Her quarters were attached to Zelda's infinitely more expansive ones, and she usually spent most of her time in her charge's fine living space, but both of them needed a little privacy now and then.

Nothing magical about the box – there was no spell laid on it. She opened it – and out slid a folded note, and a handsome set of lockpicks in a leather case. Impa set the lockpicks down on a side table next to her couch, and unfolded the note.

_Lady Impa,_

_Princess Zelda already got her present from my Province, but seeing how I'm here and actually met her, I thought it would be best to give her something personal. We've noticed her interest in the Gerudo, and since every Gerudo girl worth her salt can pick a lock, what better way to show my people's approval of her interest? The princess should be good at it – her fingers were steady and deft when she played the harp at our first meeting. I figured I should ask you first, though – because I know the difference between the mother that bore me and the mother that raised and loved me. I know Zelda knows the difference, too._

_Please send me word of your approval or disapproval by way of Deana. I apologize if the suggestion is inappropriate – the lockpicking bit, I mean. If you disapprove, I have another gift in mind, so please let me know soon._

_Thanks and my regard,_

_Link of the Gerudo._

Impa's mouth thinned as she regarded the message. What to do? It would be a good skill for Zelda to learn – Impa knew from experience that the Princess's life was far from safe, even in the Castle. Yet lockpicking would not be considered an appropriate pastime, not by the King and Queen.

"Impa?" Zelda called from the other side of the door, and Impa set the note aside and entered Zelda's rooms.

"Yes?"

"Could you help me with this dance?" The girl's face was set in concentration, her fair gold hair faintly wavy and free of her usual, proper veils. Her daintily slippered feet were spread in stance. Unknown to her blood parents, Impa had begun instructing Zelda in the fighting dances every Sheikah girl was taught before she became a woman. They improved grace and posture, and taught valuable defense moves.

"Which dance are you on?"

"Bird's Shadow, Impa."

"Get into first stance and cycle through, if you please." The princess dutifully obeyed, while Impa watched with a careful eye. "I believe you need to deepen that third half-step stance. Now – half-step, pause, twirl, and knee lift, pinwheel, palm out. Good. Did you feel how much easier it was to keep your balance?"

"Yes." Zelda said, green eyes bright.

"Zelda. How would you feel about learning to pick locks?" The blonde gaped.

"Oh! Could I? I can keep it a secret."

"Good. Link of the Gerudo would teach you, though I would chaperone, of course."

"Of course." Zelda muttered, "The Gerudo once were thieves, after all. Well! I would very much like to learn, Impa."

"Then I will let young Link know, Princess."

"Thank you, Impa."

"Ten seconds remaining, Princess." Zelda squinted, lock picks held delicately in her pale hands, all her considerable focus on the lock before her.

"Got it."

"Counting down, five, four-" With a soft _snick_, the lock clicked open.

"Yessss!" She hissed in triumph. Link raised an eyebrow.

"Don't get too excited. Anyone can pick a standard lock in fifteen minutes."

"Not any Hylian, Link."

"I suppose." He conceded easily enough, sitting comfortably in one of Zelda's many sitting rooms. It wouldn't be proper for either of them to enter the other's quarters, even with a chaperone. "What about Sheikah, Lady Impa, do they know how to pick locks?" He asked cheekily, and Impa gave him a stern look.

"It would be entirely dishonorable to know such things." She said firmly, then smiled. "So of course they do." Zelda snickered behind him.

"Oh. Right." Link said with a lopsided grin. Though Hylians and Sheikah were the enemy, more and more he'd come to realize they were people too. A little ignorant, yes, but not as bad as he'd thought. A soft furry head butted his knee, and Link looked down to see Zelda's little ridge-cat cub gazing up at him imperiously.

"Hello, Elba." The cat made a little chirp, and Link hoisted her onto his lap, stroking her tawny, spotted pelt. A month ago Zelda had chosen her pick of the ridge-cat litter – Elba of the bright golden eyes and sweet temper. Elba ate only from the Princess's hand, and already knew her name, and to come when she was called. She spent most of her time playing with the toys provided by the ridge-cat trainers of the South, or sleeping, preferably on her mistress's lap.

Zelda was kneeling at a low table, upon which sat the Gerudo device most children used to learn lockpicking. It had four key holes – a beginner's lock, two different standard locks, and an advanced lock.

"I think that's enough for today, Princess." Link said, and the girl nodded, replacing her picks into the case with automatic movements. That was good, Link noted, as the first thing he'd attempted to teach her was to always take care of your instruments. It was the same with lock picks, musical instruments, and weapons. A basic rule for many arts. The pick set itself was finely made, but without any kind of decoration, as lock picks were not made to be flaunted. "You're learning very fast, though I guess it could be that you're learning at an older age."

"How early did you learn?" Zelda wondered, her interest kindled. Link ruffled his auburn hair in thought. It was still red – he had learned a glamour under Ganondorf's tutelage which he now used.

"Well, I was seven, maybe eight."

"That young!" She marveled. The boy shrugged.

"Took me a year to break a standard lock though, so I s'pose it's all relative."

"Well then, Master Link," Impa said briskly, as she strode over and packed away the lock device, "It is almost lunch time, so you had best run along to the Great Hall. It wouldn't do for you to arrive at the meal at the same time as the Princess."

"Yes, Lady Impa. I understand." He saluted the two, and trotted down the Golden Wing hallway towards the servant's shortcut to the Hall.

Link was slurping up the last of his soup when Finnes from the other end of the table came over. Karlen had turned sixteen, and upon his reaching adulthood, now sat at an adult table in the Hall. He would probably be knighted after two years of serving a knight or lord. Arris and Finnes still associated with him, but both had warmed considerably towards Link once the leader of their pack was gone.

"Finnes?" Link queried, setting the bowl down, "What's going on? Something to share?" Finnes grinned weakly, and scrubbed at his face with one hand, nervously.

"You are not going to believe what Karlen has done, Link." The dark-haired boy said with a weak chuckle, and pulled out a chair next to the Gerudo boy. Link groaned.

"What has he done this time?"

"Well, you know how touchy he is about the Crown Princess's affections, right?"

"Yes, Finnes, because he'll definitely wed her." Danek drawled from across the table. Arris, who had also migrated to Link's end of the table, snorted.

"Say what you want, Danek of Kelyeso, but Karlen's a genuine candidate for her hand."

"I think it's a shame no one ever asks what the lady herself wants." Link commented, and was ignored. "Right, right. I know, it's all about _Politics_." He let himself sneer, then dropped it. "Enough build up. Tell us, Finnes." He filled the glass nearest Finnes with cold juice from the perspiring pitcher at his elbow. Finnes nodded his thanks and continued with his story.

"Anyway, the Princess has been spending an unusual amount of time in the library lately." That was actually not true, Link thought, as she now had her cub Elba to attend to, but she'd let her secrecy fall lax, so she was being spotted in the Archives more often now. "She's been seen talking to the third-rank lord Ferrick Rauros often. He was once seen behaving most familiarly with her, though not quite improperly."

"Let me guess," young Harlan ventured querulously, "And Karlen felt threatened by it."

"Shut your mouth, Hillview!" Arris snapped. "You may be a noble, but you're only fourth rank, and I don't need to hear your gabble."

"Shut it, Arris." Link said tolerantly, passing a sweet bun to Harlen, who received it gratefully. "The most wonderful thing about being noble is how we resolve our differences – with intelligence, dignity, and poise." Danek tried to suppress his laughter, failed, and ended up snorting tea out of his nose. Link and Harlan automatically handed him their napkins. "Please continue, Finnes." He added off-handedly.

"So Karlen was outraged by Ferrick Rauros, his cousin, and challenged Rauros to a duel." Link gaped.

"He did what?" Link's jaw dropped. "Does Karlen challenge everything that walks and talks? Furthermore, he'll be killed!" Arris and Finnes shot him a puzzled look.

"Ferrick Rauros may be twenty-three, Link," Finnes said, "But he's had no formal fighting training. He has a little height on Karlen, but not much."

"Personally, I think it's dishonorable, trying to duel with a gawky scholar like that." Arris added. Link shook his head ruefully.

"You know nothing! Ferrick Rauros is fully trained in battle magic. He could probably kill Karlen with a single word. Karlen is in way over his head."

"That's not possible." Arris dismissed, and Link shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Either way, I want to see that fight when it happens."

"It's in a week, in the Black Wing." Link grinned ferally, excitement in his bright blue eyes.

"I look forward to it."

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Of Confrontations**

"_I'm afraid of what I do not know  
I hate being undermined."_

Darkness ~ Peter Gabriel

"Hullo, Master Link." Deana said, carrying a small platter into Link's study. The boy blinked up owlishly at her, setting his book aside. It was late, as he was wont to studying at night. "I brought fresh _Kalika_, and some snacks. Kancha has finally gotten the balance of citrus and froth right."

"Thank you, Deana. But where is Lirina? Not that it isn't nice to see you, I mean." He added hastily, and the young, glossy-haired woman smiled sweetly.

"Poor Lirina is ill, so I'm covering for you tonight." She handed the steaming mug of _Kalika_ into Link's outstretched hand, and uncovered the plate, revealing hot spiced nuts and a little meat tart, the crust all golden and flaky. "Also, I wanted to thank you for that lovely mud," Link had given it to her on a whim, thinking Zelda had no need for it when he could teach her far more useful things. "And I have messages straight from the leyline center."

"Really?" Link perked at that, and Deana giggled.

"Don't read them tonight – well, you can't because I spell-sealed it to open tomorrow at noon. Tanner told me to, I hope you don't mind." Link sighed gustily.

"I guess I would spend all night reading it, so it's all right." He allowed.

"You need to be rested tomorrow, Master Link. After all, Lord Rauros' duel with Karlen of Rosethorn is tomorrow, early in the morning, just after breakfast."

"Right." Link agreed.

"I'll leave you to your studies, then, shall I?" He nodded.

"Thank you, Deana, and goodnight."

"Goodnight, Master Link." She closed the study door behind her, and Link heard her pad across the living room, and leave via the servant's door.

Link flipped open his book with one hand and reached for the meat tart with the other. Breaking into it with his fork, he found the filling was minced beef, tomato, herbs and melted cheese. His mouth watered. The little pie was quickly eaten up, as were the spiced nuts.

At long last, he set his study materials aside and prepared for bed. Link made short work of washing up, and gratefully climbed under the light summer coverlet.

That morning, Link dressed carefully, briefed Tanner on the day's activities, and headed for the Great Hall, where he scarfed down a plate of fried eggs, honey on toast, and wonder of wonders, freshly mixed _Kalika_still steaming from the kitchen fires.

He was on his second helping of eggs and _Kalika_ when the other boys reached the table. Harlan plopped himself down with a sigh, and reached for the bread basket. Arek peeled an orange, and Danek did the same. Finnes sat down, and began to fiddle with a hot waffle. Meticulously, he spread a little pat of butter in each indentation, letting the butter soak into the bread, then ripped it into pieces to dip in maple syrup. According to Finnes, Arris was helping Karlen get ready for his duel. No one spoke much of the upcoming duel – out of respect for Link's mentor. He knew though, what they were thinking – that Ferrick Rauros would quickly lose.

The morning was hot and dusty in the nicest of the many training courtyards belonging to the Black Wing. Because this particular yard was meant for nobles, there was a viewing gallery for lady observers.

Karlen and Ferrick stood clad in traditional duel clothes – a belted tunic and leggings. Southerners added a long-sleeved shirt beneath the tunic, to better protect the arms. Link stood in a ring with the other male viewers around the edge of the yard.

"What?" Karlen sneered, adjusting his belt, "No Gerudo weapons? Everyone knows you use them." Indeed, Ferrick wore only a belt-knife and a rapier.

"I do use them. But this duel ought to be fair – and played with equal instruments." The taller man said gently, pitching his voice to carry to even the ladies watching up on the gallery. "But honestly, Karlen of Rosethorn, I thought we were beyond this." Karlen eyed Ferrick distrustfully.

"Beyond what?" He queried, tilting his head.

"We now live in a world where wit gets one by better than brawn. Military prowess is important in an imperialist society, but there is no more of Hyrule to conquer by force. There is still expansion in Imally, up against the Lost Woods, as there is in the marshes beyond Lake Hylia, but those inhospitable lands can only be conquered with technology and a hard day's work. There is no more to consume – we must now focus on quality rather than quantity." Karlen blinked, trying to absorb all those words. Up in the gallery, a woman tittered. Some of the guards and soldiers began to mutter to each other, grinning. Ferrick stood tall, and gangling. "Duels are, frankly, an outdated concept. Let's examine it – rather than resolving a difference of opinion or insult with thought and compromise, why don't we try to stick and slash at each other with a long blade, and whoever comes out alive or least injured is clearly in the right. In a duel, injury is a guarantee (unless the person who knows he is outmatched forfeits), and it's not uncommon for such fights to end in death! Now," He continued, blithely ignoring the growing restlessness of the observers, "If two common men were to be caught fighting with knives, possibly to the death, they would be separated, jailed, and fined for a disruption of the peace! Not encouraged and even bet on. Nobles comprise the select few who are trained from birth to lead the people they rule over. Our blood is costly, and shouldn't be so vulgarly spilled on a yard of packed earth. And the winner of a duel is not always correct, and sometimes he will have deprived a people of a sorely-needed leader, one who was born to guide them, one who is accustomed to the land and its needs. You can't just pick a noble out of a hat and send him to rule a random territory in our fair country. It just isn't logical. It's not sane. Of course, the strongest argument that supports the duel is that it is the traditional way of solving such matters-"

"But it is!" Karlen protested, making a sharp gesture. Ferrick shot him a quelling look.

"Tradition is not the be-all and end-all, Karlen."

"Tradition holds because it is right! Because it works, and it always will!" Ferrick sighed, letting his shoulders slump, his hands splayed and turned outward to theatrically display his disappointment in the younger boy. Link had to shove his hand in his mouth to keep down the belly-laugh he so wanted to release.

"Come now, Karlen. You needn't interrupt. Tradition also dictates that a man may make a speech before he enters a duel. After all, each duel might be his last. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Tradition. Tradition holds not because it is right, nor does it always work. Tradition holds because it's easy. They say only madmen try the same thing and expect a different result. But we follow tradition because if things go wrong, we are not to blame. Nobody likes change, but stagnation is just as bad. It's a new world out there, in the South. We've reached the borders. Now it's time to fill things in, to perfect what we do. Think, Karlen! You are heir to the oldest, wealthiest seat in the country. And if you want it to retain its wealth, well, then – you'd better keep up." Ferrick wiped his hands off on his pant, then clapped them together in a move that reminded Link very much of Rabiyu. "There! That's me done, then. I've had my say, so I'm ready for my duel, Karlen of Rosethorn."

"Well said!" A bright, musical voice rang out gaily from the gallery. The Crown Princess leaned over the wooden rail, sheer purple hair veils flapping in the stale breeze. Karlen blanched, then reddened unhealthily.

"You!" He exploded, thrusting a finger at Ferrick, "You're stealing everything I deserve! First the attentions of our Uncle the Duke, my allies, and now the Princess herself!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Karlen." Ferrick dismissed, "I'm not eligible for the ruling seat. There are twelve others between me and that possibility. I wouldn't know anything about these allies, whomever they are, and as for the Princess…?" He turned to look at Zelda, who smiled at him.

"Gracious Princess!" He hailed her, and she inclined her head graciously. "Have I stolen you?"

"You have not, Sir Rauros." She replied, voice like a bell. "Clearly, I stand here where I belong! Are you a thief, Sir Rauros?"

"I was married to one!" This got him some laughter from the spectators. Karlen gulped as he realized how far the situation had gotten out of his control. "Unfortunately, not long enough for the habits to wear off on me."

"And you have no nefarious plans to steal the throne by way of marriage to me?" Ferrick's mouth made an unhappy twist.

"No, Princess. I know my place." Zelda frowned briefly, then smiled again, the mask back on just as quickly.

"As we all should." She falsely approved, to murmurs of agreement from the ladies around her. "Lord Karlen," She started, and the older boy bowed deeply. "While I must approve of your… eagerness to right perceived wrongs, such misunderstandings are easily solved by the very methods Lord Rauros described. This duel was to defend my honor, was it not?"

"Yes, my Princess Zelda." Karlen said faintly.

"As you have learned, this was not the case. Your claims are therefore spurious." Link took great pleasure watching Karlen mouth 'spurious' in bewilderment. "My honor needs no defending, and truly, Lord Karlen of Rosethorn, a lady prefers to be _asked_ in such matters." She pulled away from the railing. "I'm done with this," She muttered, then spotted a welcome face in the practice yard. _Well, of course he would be there for his sponsor's duel,_ she thought wryly, "Lord Link of the Gerudo!" He looked up in surprise.

"Yes, Crown Princess?" He saluted her, then bowed.

"Would you do me a _great_ favor?" Zelda took care to appear fluttery and feminine.

"That would depend, Princess," Link said carefully but cheerfully, "On the favor!" Zelda rolled her eyes to herself, then smiled again, saccharine sweet.

"Would you kindly escort Lady Impa and I to my quarters. The sun is hot, and the shade is ever so much cooler." Link did not smirk.

"Gladly, Princess." Karlen paled as his audience turned away from him, to watch his true rival gallantly lead his once-future wife back into the palace, leaving him with the now rapidly decreasing crowd and the man who'd turned out to be no threat at all.

"So, Karlen," Ferrick Rauros said mildly, eying his sixteen-year old bully of a distant cousin. "Do you still want that duel? I can use Gerudo weapons, if you want."

Zelda got as far as an outdoor alcove in the exterior of the Silver Wing before she dared look at her escort's face. Their secretive smiles inescapably grew and grew, fueled by each other's mirth, until it burst, and they clutched at their bellies, laughing hard enough to cry.

"Did – did you see Karlen's face?" She chortled, veils askew.

"I… want to be Ferrick… when I grow up!" Link gasped out, grin all but splitting his face. "He went into a duel and he… and he!" His words dissolved into breathless laughter.

"He went into a duel armed with nothing but words and he won!" She marveled.

"Actually, he can use those weapons." Link corrected, snickering. "And he knows fisticuffs as well."

"Huh!" Was Zelda's eloquent reply. A few paces away, Impa looked on in amusement.

"Are you quite finished?" She asks dryly, and Zelda sobers up.

"Yes, Impa. I'm sorry for making a spectacle of myself."

"I'm not." Link commented, and the Princess shot him a glare, but it had little venom.

"I wish _I_ was a boy, and then I could have told Karlen exactly what I thought of him." The boy smirked.

"Your way was better. He knows now, and you were polite the entire time." Zelda smiled lopsidedly.

"I suppose."

"Hey – could I play a little with Elba?" He wondered shyly, and her smile mirrored it. She liked that he found her little sweetheart charming, liked how gentle he was with the cub. So Ferrick Rauros would make no bid for her hand, she knew now. Zelda could deal with that, so long as there was an acceptable prospect in the vast group of men who would vie to marry her.

"All right. Let's go, then." She acquiesced, and he straightened up, offered her his arm, and off they went, Impa following briskly behind.

"You know what, Rauros?" Karlen said, "I think… I need to go now. Yeah. I'm going to go."

"All right…" Ferrick said, and watched Karlen flee, a little bemused.

Elba, as it turned out, was on the couch in a sitting room, still deeply under, taking yet another one of those intense, periodic naps kittens and children both seemed to have,. Link and Zelda played a little music together while they waited for Elba to wake, Link on his ever-present ocarina, and Zelda on her harp.

At last, the little cub _murred_ softly, blinking golden eyes. She sat up, stood, and stretched her back in a little arch, then began to wash her spotted tail thoroughly. Link got her attention by dangling a long silk ribbon in her face, which prompted an eager swat. When she bored of play and vocally demanded affection, Zelda picked Elba up and nestled her in her skirts, stroking and scratching until the cub was purring thunderously. She quickly fell asleep, and Zelda and Link started a discussion of various local legends.

"You know, Link, I can't believe you've never heard of the Hero Thereo."

"Heard of him, yes, but not his story."

"How strange! You look very much like him, except your hair. His was gold." Link uncomfortably stayed silent, and kept his true hair color a secret. He thought of himself as a red head anyways. He was only blonde for a few moments when the spell faded away every two months.

"Hunh!" He replied, and she smiled back, fiddling with her hair veil.

"Would you like me to tell you the legend of Thereo, Thrice Hero of Hyrule?" Zelda asked.

"I think I would enjoy it, so yes, by all means, Princess." She smiled.

"Very well. Thereo was born Thereo of the Streets, in a land far, far beyond the borders of Hyrule…"

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Legends**

"_I did not miss you much  
I did not suffer  
What did not kill me  
Just made me tougher"_

Ghost Story ~ Sting

The Hero Thereo was born Thereo of the Streets, in a land far, far beyond the borders of Hyrule. This land was called Ansalia, and that country was bordered by a vast lake called the One Ocean on three ends, and by the Lazul River.

He was born to a commoner family in a crowded city, a place where torrents of rain promptly fell everyday at high noon. An outbreak of cholera killed his family, and Thereo was raised to manhood by a retired soldier.

The land in which he lived, the great expanse of the world outside Hyrule's impenetrable borders, was wracked with perpetual wars. One country would defeat and devour a neighbor, yet another would split into two after a long revolution of secession. Heroes in this vast world were common, and unappreciated for all their number.

A younger prince of Ansalia was kidnapped by the evil king of a nearby country. A select, elite group of knights, warriors and mages were chosen to bring the Prince Jerod back to Ansalia and to safety. Of the group, Thereo's guardian was one of them. There was no other place for the boy to go. He was taken along. One of the best wizards in the questing party brought his apprentice with him. This boy, Kamiarn Malakarn, quickly became friends with Thereo. They were handsome boys, Thereo with hair of gold, and eyes of cobalt, Kamiarn with hair dark as the night, and eyes an eerie golden.

This party travelled long to the treacherous country of Ybol, through snowy mountain ranges, across a country where the sun never set and each person's skin was the color of gold, and deep into the heart of a frosty wasteland, where the King of Ybol's fortress lay. Almost half of the rescue party perished on the way, and it was Thereo and Kamiarn who led the final attack and saved their prince.

The journey back was easier as they could raft down the Lazul River, but just as dangerous for the sirens and krakens dwelling in it. By the time the Prince was returned to the Ansalian Royal Family, three and a half years had passed, and the party was only seven of the original twenty. The triumphant survivors were hailed as heroes, but Thereo and Kamiarn, no longer apprentices, had travelled too far and seen too much to wish to serve the government in any fashion. Instead, they chose to wander Ansalia, with quests here and there for the Ansalian King's pleasure.

Kamiarn discovered the existence of a very select, secret school of magic, and went to study there for five years, leaving Thereo behind. The hero continued to travel aimlessly, searching for a cause, when he stumbled through the barriers of Hyrule, leaving the outside world behind. That was three hundred years ago.

Hyrule was suffering then, for the dragons in the Curled Backbone Mountains had multiplied ferociously, and they preferred Hylians as their prey. With so many dragons living, the dreaded Dragonmen were awakened from their spell-sleep.

The Dragonmen were monstrous, manlike creatures, believed to be a result of interbreeding of Lizalfos, the smaller varieties of dragons, and finally of unwilling Hylian women stolen from their homes by the lizard-dragon hybrids. The unnatural result had been the Dragonmen – handsome eight-foot tall men, with eyes of fire and teeth like needles, with clawed fingers and the ability to control dragons to do their monstrous whims.

Twice before had the dragons returned, and with them, the Dragonmen. Twice before the Sages of the Barrier Temples joined together to send them back into sleep before the creatures could take over the country. Once the Dragonmen slept, the dragons themselves reverted to mindless beasts, and could be hunted down and slaughtered.

Thereo had dealt with dragons many times before, but never Dragonmen. At first he organized slaying parties from available soldiers and citizens to combat the great fire-lizards. It was not enough - for the dragons were controlled by the far more clever men-monsters.

At last the Foreigner encountered a Dragonman, and finally killed it, barely escaping the battle with his life. He set King Harkinian the Tenth's mages and scholars to studying the body, hoping they would learn its secrets. As they picked apart the monster's carcass, word came that one of the King's daughters had been taken. Thereo, who had come into Harkinian X's favor through his efforts to wipe of the dragon problem, was expected to immediately go to her rescue. He refused, and sent two troops to serve in his place. Enraged, the King banished the Foreigner from the Castle. Thereo continued to collaborate with the set of men analyzing, and his efforts paid off – the scholars found the Dragonmen would die when pierced with bronze blades.

Immediately, Thereo set his people to forging bronze swords, spears, and arrow heads. In the four years he'd spent in Hyrule, slaying dragons and fighting Dragonmen, Thereo had developed a following that ignored the King's decree to shun the Foreigner. When his people were suitably armed, they marched on the Dragonman fortress at Mount Baylo, in the western Curled Backbone Range. Half of the thousand-strong army was killed by dragons before they breached the fortress walls, but then the much-weaker Dragonmen were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Hylians, and quickly fell under the bite of bronze weapons. Thereo himself slew the Dragonman chieftain, and led the stolen Princess to safety.

She was brought back to Hyrule Castle by two of the Foreigner's right-hand men, forcing King Harkinian X to apologize to Thereo. But it was too late for that. Thereo searched the land for every last Dragonmen, and when he was satisfied they were eliminated for good, he found his way out of Hyrule, and left our country for the more familiar world beyond its borders.

He spent the next decades thwarting the plans of his old comrade Kamiarn, who had turned to evil ways in the four years Thereo had spent in Hyrule. Through a boon of the outsider god referred to as the Mad God by those who lived beyond the safety of Hyrule, Kamiarn had been granted immortality. All that was required in turn was a century of service to the insane God. Thereo desperately tried to bring his closest friend to the path of good, to no avail. But Kamiarn never managed to shake Thereo off, never managed to kill the ever-present thorn in his side.

We know this because twenty-seven years after defeating the Dragonmen, Thereo the Foreigner returned to Hyrule.

One of the mages, the Lord Albycon, who had helped discover the weakness of the Dragonmen, had gone rogue in the time Thereo was gone. Utilizing the secrets he had found from the Dragonmen corpses, their fortress, and other, unknown findings, he resurrected an army of the dead, and conquered Hyrule, killing young King Angres who had just risen to the throne with his father's death.

With the new regime reigning, Albycon raised taxes and began to wipe out the towns that refused to pay up. Hordes of stalfos, redead, and poes swarmed over the land, wrecking havoc.

It was to this that Thereo returned, as he searched for a way to save the Dark Lord Kamiarn from himself. Only to face another Dark Lord altogether.

Thereo called up his former followers, but they had grown old as he had not, and many of the more renowned ones had been killed by pre-emptive strikes from Albycon. He recruited a band of twelve mercenaries, and began to lead counter-attacks on Albycon's outposts. One day, a woman mage by the name of Aldra Versimmon approached Thereo in hopes of working together to defeat the Dark Lord.

She was as beautiful as she was wise, with dark hair and eyes of jade. She had been consecrated to the Goddesses as a child, and with the death of her master the High Priest, she became the Guardian of the Chamber of Time. When Lord Albycon became King, she took a piece of the Triforce for herself – the Triforce of Wisdom, and sealed the Chamber with a temporary seal. To Thereo, she offered the Triforce of Courage, in exchange for his heart. He willingly gave it to her, for he found her as beautiful as the dusk before nightfall.

Together they rallied an army of Hylians, Sheikah, Gorons, Deku, and Zora, and defeated the undead army of Albycon's. But Albycon was powerful even alone, and the Hyrulean army had taken heavy losses. Thereo and Aldra, along with the Chief of the Gorons and two assassins from Hyra in Arryn, took on the Dark Lord, and finally, Albycon was slain by poison and Thereo's blade of star-steel.

When the fighting was over, the enemy and Albycon's bodies were burned and their ashes scattered on the winds.

Many individuals from the united races remained to rebuild Hyrule. In the years that followed, Thereo and Aldra married, and relinquished their pieces of the Triforce. They also had the foresight to construct a better barrier to safely keep the Triforce out of interfering hands. A drop of blood from each of the six races sealed the massive door that blocked off the Chamber of Time. Furthermore, Thereo's star-steel sword served as a key to the Triforce, requiring a sacrifice of life from one who would remove it to open the way to the Triforce.

Hyrule was now kingless, so Halbers, the next in line for the throne, came out of hiding and took up the kingship.

Thereo remained in Hyrule for twelve years to help rebuild the country. When Hyrule could survive without him, he collected six drops of blood from each race, opened the way to the Triforce, and made a wish on the golden triangles. He wished for immortality, and it was granted. He sealed the Sacred Realm, the Chamber, and the Door of Time. Then he disappeared again, not to be seen in Hyrule for a hundred years.

Aldra waited for him, but grew old and died before Thereo returned.

After leaving Hyrule, the Foreigner returned to his native Ansalia, to fight Kamiarn once more. They struggled for decades upon decades, both immortal, before Thereo finally defeated Kamiarn. Thereo then turned his intentions to the black-haired enchantress Mia, who was also immortal. Exactly one hundred years after Kamiarn had become immortal and pledged himself to the Mad God, Thereo succeeded in earning Mia's loyalty, and she changed sides, attaching herself to him, ready to serve him in whatever way she could. But he did not forget Aldra.

They wandered the world together, saving kingdoms and earning glory in their quest for adventure. Fifty years ago, Thereo set his sights on Hyrule once more. Our country was suffering a blight of crops, spread by a fungus the mages couldn't seem to overcome. Following the fungus came a curse of Peahats attracted to the spores. Mia was greatly weakened by passing through the barriers of Hyrule, but did her best to analyze the fungus and remedy the blight while Thereo gathered and trained men to destroy the Peahats. The pair was successful in both endeavors, and Hyrule was safe once more.

Thereo and Mia wandered Hyrule for years after the blight. A year later a Baron's daughter was kidnapped, and they rescued her and returned her safely to her father. When the pair tired of wandering, they settled in the wilderness of the old Imally border. They were seen here and there in the following years, and then Mia disappeared altogether. It is believed she left Hyrule for reasons unknown. Thereo continued to make appearances here and there.

He was last confirmed seen in Haltierty, in Drought Country, organizing local men to beat back wildfires during a year of heavy drought in the area, twenty years ago. Since then, people have only reported rumors and fleeting glimpses of the Foreigner Thereo, Thrice Hero of Hyrule.

But even the rumors died off, about fifteen to thirteen years ago.

And the last rumored sighting was in Lake Hylia.

I recall hearing you were born in Lake Hylia, Link.

You really do look like him…

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Of Broken Things**

"_Man, I'm losing sound and sight  
Of all those who can tell me wrong from right  
When all things beautiful and bright  
Sink in the night  
Yet there's still something in my heart  
That can find a way  
To make a start…"_

Signal to Noise ~ Peter Gabriel

Link eyed Zelda warily.

"…You think I'm related to Thereo, don't you." Zelda flushed.

"I was merely pointing out certain similarities, Link." Link sighed, and leaned back into the soft pillows on the couch.

"Look, Princess – I already have a mother."

"And what of a father?" She wanted to know, and Link briefly thought of Ganondorf. But he didn't really count, did he?

"Gerudos don't need fathers." He finally said, and Zelda's face fell.

"Oh." She said softly.

They both jumped as there was a crash from the side table as Elba tried to jump up onto it. Despite being a kitten, Elba was already getting large.

"Oh, Link." Zelda exclaimed, pushing Elba out of the way, "I am so very sorry."

His ocarina, his lovely little green ocarina, lay in ceramic shards on the stone floor.

"It's all right, Zelda." He heard himself say faintly, "It is isn't my only one." Just his favorite. The one he'd had all his life, the one made by Sariya, all the way from the Lost Woods. "It was getting too small for me, anyway." Link tried on a smile, but couldn't keep it from twisting into a grimace.

Softly, a melodious chime rang from a wall clock. Link glanced at it, then stood.

"I need to get to class, Princess." He said quietly, and gathered up the shattered shell of his ocarina.

"Class?" She queried, tilting her head. Link nodded.

"Yeah. I'll see you later, Zel." He said absently, saluted her casually, and left. Zelda watched him shut the pale wood door behind him with an expression that was part surprise, part pleasure with what he had called her. Part dismay her dear little pet had broken her closest friend's dearest possession.

That afternoon, between dinner and supper, Link read his leyline messages.

Reya and Aru were doing well in their studies under his mother. In their spare time, Reya was allowed to begin training horses, while Aru took instruction from one of the best warriors in the Fortress. More exciting was the news that Sir Fran had owed Ganondorf a few favors and repaid it by sending an inventor to the Fortress to build Reya a simple false leg of a metal that was durable, waterproof, and lightweight. To his cousin's delight, the man had included a hollow that could conceal weapons.

More saddening, Aru's great-aunt had succumbed to age, leaving Link's agemate homeless. She now slept in Link's old room. Aru was welcome to it, Link thought - he wasn't using it now.

Nabooru's message was full of careful wording that gave away very little. What she did with her time was not safe to speak of over the leylines, so she waxed rhapsodic over the weather, and the little inconsequential goings-on she could come up with that were not secret. Despite these limits, she still managed to write a full scroll's-worth message.

Ganondorf's message was brief.

_You are doing well. Keep it up. I will be arriving in the Capitol in six month's time. Be ready._

A week passed with only a few messages from Zelda sent by way of Deana. As much as Link enjoyed her company, his studies kept him busy.

It was late after a trip to the library for a research paper that Link heard it, walking through the dark maze of outdoor corridors between the courtyards. Faintly, someone crying. No, not crying – someone sobbing their heart out.

Intrigued, he set his books down in a hidden alcove, and followed the sound. Down dark paths, up a hill, past a small, gurgling brook, and nearly into the path of a dozen armored soldiers. Link stopped just in time to go unnoticed. Why were there soldiers within the palace grounds, between courtyards? He must be very close to the private courtyards of the Golden Wing.

His ever-present light stone long since doused, his night-sight had adjusted. He pulled his shoes off – their hard soles would give him away – and tucked them in his sash. Link used his sharp hearing to follow the men, figuring out their patrol route, their numbers, and their locations.

Link gulped, made the sign for luck, and snuck his way past the guards.

He padded away into the dark, past a curtain of moss, to an elaborately carved stone screen. The carvings were substantial, and made easy, stable hand and foot holds.

It was Zelda who was crying. This close, he could recognize her voice, despite the harsh, anguished tones.

The noise turned to words.

"—Just take me from this place, Impa! I'll go anywhere! I'll work hard all day, I'll go hungry in the lean times. I'll work until my hands are calloused and raw, and every night's sleep is a relief! No. No, I know you took an oath, Impa, not to do such things. A blood oath." Impa's voice sounded, too low to make out, soft and soothing as he'd never heard her. "I just can't go back to pretending, Impa. Not this time. Queen Alia had no right, it was only a little scratch, and Elba is so well-behaved. But-!" A sob.

"My little girl… My little dear… They could have sent her to the South, or to Link," He flinched on his perch on the wall, but the shadows concealed him. He tucked himself into a crevice where no one could see him, even in full daylight. "Link would have taken her, I'm sure of it. But they didn't, even though it was easy to do so. They killed Elba, Impa, because she was still a baby, and got frightened on my lap. And it won't even scar, the doctor said. I can't forgive it. I won't…

"And don't give me that! You're my _real_ mother, not that vapid woman. All she ever did was have me, give me presents, and dress me up like a doll when I was little and she felt like it. Hardly a mother. And you know what she does with Giada, Camara, and Belisa? They haven't had the same nursemaid for at least six month's time. Giada would make an excellent artist if they allowed her the training, and Camara and Belisa are so spoiled they won't even make good nobles. Their caretakers spoil them because it keeps them quiet temporarily. Even I could do a better job, and I'm not grown…" Zelda's voice lowered, and Link heard them conversing softly for a few minutes before he could decipher their words.

"It's just so hard. I wish… I wish I could be a boy. Then people would care that I'm smart. I could be useful! You see how I fool everyone, pretending to be what they think I should be. They probably won't even marry me off to anyone near my age."

"You wish it to be him, then?" Impa said harshly.

"And what of it? He actually cares. Somewhere inside the fakery, he does. Link would have taken her, Impa. He really would have…"

Link had heard enough. He unfolded himself out of the crevice, and slunk away, past the guards, gathering his books and returning to his room via the courtyard gate.

He felt vaguely ashamed, to have listened in on that conversation.

But what else _was_ he to do?

Once inside, Link found Tanner snoring away, still sitting upright in a deep, cushiony armchair. More and more, as the older man realized Link truly meant his words when he'd said Tanner was welcome to spend time in his suite, he'd taken the liberties offered to him. At first it was eating at the table in the dining area, then waiting for Link to arrive in one of the upholstered seats. Now he even took long soaks in the big bathtub after particularly hard days.

Once his books were stacked on his desk, Link gently shook his caretaker awake. Tanner gave a snort, then woke, blinking his eyes to make them focus on his charge's face.

"What is it, Master Link?"

"In the morning, Tanner, can you, Chase, and maybe Deana, if she's available, see if there are any kittens around?" Tanner smiled.

"Why, has the Princess's little Elba won you over, so you want one of your own?" Link shook his head.

"No. Elba was killed because she scratched Zelda, I think."

"No!" Tanner looked horrified. "Didn't they know a cat owner always has at least a few scratches?"

"Well, there are plenty of nobles in the palace without their heads fixed on properly." Link shrugged. "If we can find a kitten that has just been weaned, that would be ideal. Maybe we can ask Kancha? She told me she keeps cats in the store rooms to keep out vermin."

"Kancha is always busy. I'll ask Lirina, instead. Go to sleep, Master Link. I'll get on it." Tanner looked like he was going to head to his room, then stopped. "Will you wish to approve the cats if there are more than one available?"

"That would be great, please. Goodnight, Tanner."

"Goodnight, Master Link."

A day later, after a long afternoon of physical training, Link surveyed the selection of kittens that were presented to him, in the store rooms of the kitchen in the Great Hall. They came in many colors, from ginger tabbies to wildly patched tortoiseshells, and in many ages, from freshly weaned to nearly a year old.

A little white kitten with an orange splotch on her head like a cap was eager to lick his fingers, but ran away when Link tried to stroke her. A black yearling, all gawky limbs, was more interested in the string that Link offered than the actual boy himself.

Link played with the five kittens for about an hour before making his choice. He helped feed the kittens meat scraps from the kitchen, then tucked his choice into a wicker basket with a lid when the kitten was sleeping.

Deana had gone ahead and taken a message to Zelda, who had sent back a message agreeing to meet in the River Room, a smallish receiving room in the Golden Wing.

Impa was the one who let Link into the room, holding the door open so he could carry the basket more easily. Zelda sat on a turquoise sofa, her slippered feet resting on an ottoman, hugging knees drawn to her chest. She was wearing a dark red dress – Hylian mourning colors - and her face was tight, pale, pinched with grief. Sad green eyes took in the basket.

"Is that what I think it is?" She said quietly, raising her chin imperiously. "I don't need a replacement for Elba." Link shrugged, and set the basket gently down on the couch.

"Who said it was a replacement?" He said, "I just think now, the way you're feeling, you need something to love."

"You moved quickly, lord Link." Her eyes, the same shade as an emerald's, narrowed. "Too quickly. How did you find out my situation so speedily?"

"I have friends in a lot of places."

"Spies, you mean."

"No, Princess. Friends. I take care of my friends, and they do so in return. If you don't consider yourself in the group, well… I suppose then I haven't been clear enough, then. Come on, Zel. At least take a look at her." Zelda acquiesced, and opened the basket.

Curled into a tight little ball was a kitten of about two month's age. She was a black and brown tabby, with glossy, fluffy fur, her chin and paws creamy white, her tan belly mottled with black markings. Despite herself, Zelda reached out and stroked that silky fur. The little female did not wake, but began to purr.

"Kancha has a scullery maid ready to feed her regularly three times a day, so please send Kancha a message where you plan to keep the kitten. And, well… If you don't want her, please call for Deana and I'll look after her."

Zelda pet the velvet ear of the tabby pensively.

"If she was yours, what would you name her?" She wondered.

"Nutmeg." The princess sighed.

"Fine. I'll keep her if you answer me this – would you have taken in Elba, given the chance?" Her mouth pressed tight, wobbling a little.

"Of course. Who wouldn't want to hunt Wolfos with a ridge-cat at their side?" Link replied, and Zelda bowed her head.

"I thought so." She said softly, fingering a blue veil, "Very well. I'll keep Nutmeg." Link let his eyes widen slightly.

"Aren't you going to name her yourself?" She shrugged.

"It's a good name – that of a rare, precious spice. No, Nutmeg will do nicely as a name."

"All right." Slowly, the little kitten now named Nutmeg uncurled and stretched luxuriously. Her pink tongue licked her nose, then she promptly turned and began to wash her privates. Link and Zelda snorted with laughter. Link shook his head, and rose.

"I'm wanted at my rooms, Princess. I hope Nutmeg is good for you." She sighed, then smiled.

"Thank you for thinking of me, Link. It was very thoughtful."

"You're welcome, Zelda. I'll see you later, Princess."

"Til then." She agreed.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Of Long Winters**

"_This whole thing will still come down without you  
It's nothing to do with all of you  
But my own thing is only to protect you…"_

Whole Thing ~ Peter Gabriel

Ganondorf arrived at the palace during a heavy snowfall. Link stood in the receiving courtyard, in heavy boots, wool trousers, and a very thick overcoat over several layers of clothing. His breath fogged in the air, something he'd only gotten used to recently, along with snow and ice. Sometimes Link still marveled over the winter conditions, despite the first snowfall two months ago.

Winter in the North was full of strange things – snowball fights with his friends, ice skating, Harlan twisting his ankle on slippery ice, the ever-longer nights. Still, he didn't think he would have enjoyed any of it without judicious use of warming charms. The palace was preparing for Midwinter and the new year. As was natural, the last day of the year fell on Midwinter's day.

Now, he stood close to a large brazier, shivering slightly in the brisk wind. At last the Gerudo wagon rolled in, its canopy bright with blue and red geometric designs. Two Gerudo women sat on the bench next to him. Link recognized them – Alya and Nabira, a married couple. Alya was an administrator, in control of the Gerudo textiles industry. Nabira was an accountant, and handled all the financial matters that Ganondorf did not take care of himself. Both women were bundled up warmly, and looked quite uncomfortable. Only Ganondorf looked at ease, but then, these days, he always did.

Standing around Link were various servants he'd befriended over the year he'd been in the palace.

"Tanner?" He said aloud, and his manservant looked up from where he was warming his hands briskly.

"Yes, Master Link?"

"Let everyone know the wagon has anti-thief spells, so they should wait for King Ganondorf to drop the magic before they move to unload everything."

"Very good, Master Link." Tanner left to spread the word. Before long, the wagon was emptied, and Link approached the Gerudo party.

"Welcome back, my Lord." He said to Ganondorf, bowing deeply. "And welcome to Hyrule Castle, Alya and Nabira."

"Thank you, Prince Link." Nabira said, smiling at him.

"You've grown since I last saw you," Alya marveled, "At least two or three inches!" Link grinned and shrugged.

"I've heard from the Hylians that it's normal for boys my age."

"Good," Ganondorf said, looking down at his heir. "You're much paler now, boy." Link pulled a glove off and examined the back of his hand against his mentor's skin color.

"Huh! So I am!" He realized. "Still, darker than most Hylians, right?"

"Indeed. Come, now, boy – we may speak more in the Green Wing rooms, not out here where anyone can overhear." Link nodded vigorously, and put his glove back on.

"Tanner? We're headed for my rooms – please oversee everyone so King Ganondorf, and the ladies Alya and Nabira's things find their way to the proper rooms. The guests will be in my room until dinnertime. All right?" He looked to his king for approval, and Ganondorf granted it with a gracious nod. "Right. That's right."

"I understand, Master Link." Tanner gave a deferential nod.

"Thank you, Tanner." Link turned to his fellow Gerudo. "Now, if you will please follow me, we can go to my rooms…" With that said, he headed for the indoor halls, choosing to take the longer but warmer route.

Alya and Nabira were eager to sample Hylian food, so Link brought out a few snacks from his dining area cabinets. He noticed Ganondorf's stare when he pricked his finger to activate the cooking spells. He turned, and met his King's gaze squarely.

"Is there something you need, my Lord?" Link inquired, and Ganondorf's stare faded, but the stern look remained.

"You have changed more than I expected, boy. We will talk of this later." What was he supposed to feel hearing that? Link hunched his shoulders, then shook himself mentally, and straightened up. Ganondorf would be pleased to hear the things Link had accomplished. And he simply wouldn't tell Ganondorf the parts the King wouldn't like to know.

Once the two women had finished their snack, Ruby Yannoska appeared to take them to their room. Link locked the door behind the Lady of the Green Wing.

"You wanted to talk to me, King Ganondorf?" The man folded his fingers together and stared at his heir over them. Link's skin crawled – he was the one standing, but the man still radiated power. The boy sat, to make himself feel better.

"You have changed very much, Link." Ganondorf stated gravely. "Perhaps too much. You are a cipher to me – I cannot read you nearly as well as I did before I left you."

"That a bad thing or a good thing, sire?" Link wanted to know cheekily, "I thought I was supposed to be a spy. Unreadable."

"Too good a thing then, I suppose. You act like a Hylian, speak like one, do magic like one."

"Habit I guess, my Lord." The younger boy said carefully. "It can be broken when we're done." Ganondorf smiled slowly.

"Well said, my boy." He approved.

"I was wondering, sir – when do I get to return to the Fortress?" Link said, tilting his head in question.

"When our plan comes to fruition, Link."

"Am I ever going to learn the plan, or will I have to find out when it's over?" Ganondorf sighed heavily, and nodded.

"You are so deep in this I may as well tell you. Come closer, boy." Link obeyed, and Ganondorf explained the plan in a low voice.

When he heard it, his spirits sank and his guts twisted. So that was what would happen…

"By snowmelt, you are to leave this place, and collect the six items we will need to move the plan forward. You will have to do this one your own, but I know you are capable. We have three of the items – your blood and mine." Link blinked.

"That leaves out Sheikah blood, sir."

"When I tested your blood a year ago – you registered as both Hylian and Sheikah." Link recoiled in disgust.

"I'm part _Sheikah_?" He said, horrified. "That's just sick!" Ganondorf grinned at his reaction.

"Calm yourself, Link. You can't choose your blood. It is what it is. While the Sheikah were once our enemy, they were always far more honorable than the Hylians. But you see, Link, we cannot afford honor. If we are to survive the following days, we must break every rule, and not worry about it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good lad. Come – it is nearly dinnertime. Please – show me the way, as you are far more familiar with the palace than I." Link hurried to obey.

In the Great Hall, Ganondorf sat at the High Table, next to Zelda, who he had engaged in what seemed to be a light-hearted conversation. Link caught her eye while Ganondorf was speaking with a different Duke, and she frowned down at her Gerudo friend, looking unhappy with her lot that night.

Late that night, Link lay in bed, restless. Could he really betray Zelda by following through with his King's plans? Could he dare to betray Ganondorf - who had given him so much, done so much for him? There was no easy answer, but he would have to come up with one quickly.

Zelda sighed as Impa brushed her long, wavy gold hair with gentle, firm strokes. Typically, Zelda's personal grooming and dressing was done on her own (something her parents did not know – they would not have approved), but every now and then she liked a little coddling.

"Duke Ganondorf is a strange man." She murmured, wincing as her nursemaid found a snag, but didn't mention it – life was never painless, even for a princess. "He does not seem to view politics and influence as a game, yet he clearly enjoys toying with those around him. He portrays himself as an honorable man, yet his opinions and intentions are kept secret. He takes great pleasure in patronizing me. How Link stands him, I'll never know."

"A man of many contradictions, then." Impa said quietly.

"Yes, and a dangerous one at that. The way he watches my father when he thinks no one is looking… it frightens me. No good can come of such looks."

"What are you implying, Zelda?"

"I think… I think Ganondorf wants to take the throne from my father."

"You think he is a traitor."

"Not a traitor yet, but his thoughts, his plans probably are. Don't worry – I'm not going to outright accuse him of it. And who would believe me, anyway? Women are meant to be seen, not heard, and I'm not even fully grown."

"I must agree that the man is truly duplicitous. You must be careful around him, and with how you deal with the man." Impa advised, and Zelda nodded.

"I will, Impa. The key, I think, to coming out on top of the situation will be getting Link on our side."

"And how, dear one, do you propose to do that?" Zelda smiled at the endearment from her nursemaid.

"It will be… easy and difficult at the same time. He likes me already, but the hard part will be in convincing him it's for the greater good. His mind is so focused on the Gerudo people. He needs to expand his thinking to all of Greater Hyrule."

"However you choose to do this, I will support you."

"Thank you, Impa. Now, we are going to be meeting in the Moon Room this afternoon, with a visiting Duchess from Rainfall Province. Do you think she would rather see me in blue or purple?"

"Link." The Gerudo boy looked up from where he'd buried his nose in a thick Bestiary volume in the crowded palace Library.

"Hmm?" He wondered, and Ferrick Rauros's shaggy chestnut-haired head peered around the corner of a thickly beamed bookshelf.

"We haven't talked in a while, and despite all the busyness of the season, I am supposed to be your mentor. How're you handling things?" Link raised an eyebrow.

"In what? Studies, or… other things?" Ferrick grinned, then winked.

"Studies, of course." Link bookmarked his book, and pushed it away, leaning back in his chair. "I'm doing well – top of the class or second in most things, except Heritage and Practical Accounting."

"I can understand doing poorly in Heritage, as it's all about family connections and bloodline history, but why accounting? I know you do well with math." Link wrung his hands absently.

"There are too many things to do with money, on paper at least. Logic I can understand. Lending and interest… not so much." The younger boy confessed.

"Do you need any help on that subject? I always did well in that class, myself, and it's helped me manage my estate." Link shook his russet head.

"No. I'm fifth of fourteen in that class, so it's not too bad." The man shrugged.

"Very well." He said easily. "Now, what are you reading?" Ferrick peered at the upside-down title of the thick tome Link had been studying. "_A Hunter's Bestiarie of Creatures Moste Foule_. Hmm… Now why would you need to study such a subject? Thinking of slaying a dragon or two? Or perhaps merely Peahats."

"No. I can't… you know, stay in the Palace for too long. I'm sure I'll be returning to the outside world, and, well, you never know what you'll meet on the road." Ferrick slid into the seat beside Link.

"Tektites. Guay. Stalfos, Wolfos, and all manner of creatures that live in the mountains. In the Sourcewater. And in the dark of the rain forest." He smiled as Link turned wide eyes on him. "You thought your stepfather wouldn't tell me? Of course I know. It won't be long, lad – I've had quite the time preparing your equipment for the search, such as it is."

"Really?"

"Really." He took Link's book and idly flipped through it before stopping on a page that had a elaborate illustration of an armored, insect-like creature. "Now, let me tell you the best way to fight Tektites, both aquatic and land-bound..."

A week later, Ferrick ran across the Crown Princess, also browsing through what the Library had to offer.

"Greetings, fair Princess." He said, bowing cheerfully with a complicated flourish that made her smile.

"Greetings, Sir Rauros. Did you teach Link to do that? He does it often." Ferrick smiled back.

"Indeed I did. Might I ask what you are looking for?"

"A book on the theory of old music magic, and its uses."

"Why not simply ask young Lord Link? It is his specialty, after all."

"I am seeking the more sacred applications of the practice." She bit her lip, then confessed, "And Lord Link has made it clear he does not practice Hylian religion."

"Well, he was raised in the Gerudo tradition, was he not, Crown Princess?"

"Yes." She sighed, looking torn. "Answer me this, Sir Ferrick – do you think he would ever turn to a more Hylian orientation?" Ferrick blinked, thinking fast.

"I couldn't say, Princess. He is very fond of you." She smiled softly to herself at that.

"Yes, I had noticed. He told you this?"

"I am his sponsor and tutor, my lady."

"Can I trust you to keep something between us?" The corner of his mouth quirked upward slightly.

"You may, my lady. I'm excellent with keeping my mouth firmly shut." Zelda sighed, then frowned pensively.

"I do not… trust Duke Ganondorf entirely. He is rapidly gaining more and more influence, and I believe if he continues in such a fashion, he may overreach himself and try to take more than his place allows." Ferrick swallowed.

"You speak of betrayal, my lady." She looked down demurely, a little unsure.

"I speak of betrayal, not yet committed. I fear plans may be discovered, and the Gerudo Province, of which I have grown fond, would be disgraced and lessened. I do not want such a fallback to damage Lord Link's reputation." The man tilted his head, observing her.

"You have plans for him, then?" She shook her veiled head in denial.

"Not plans, but rather, hopes."

"I see." Ferrick said gravely, "I believe I understand what you intend, then. I've no wish to see the lad maligned."

"Then I have your word that you will do your best to protect him and his future?"

"You have my word, Crown Princess."

"Thank you, Sir Ferrick." She whispered. "You know, I had once hoped for you to be present in my future, but I now understand better, why such a thing could not be."

"I was sorry to disappoint." Zelda smiled wryly.

"No, I do not believe you ever were. It does not matter. We cannot have all that we want."

"Wise words, my lady."

"Thank you. You may be dismissed, Sir Rauros." He nodded, and left. She sighed, and returned to searching for the true use of the Ocarina of Time. The instrument had not been created on a whim – surely somewhere, its origin was recorded. Until she knew of its true nature, she could not proceed further in the plan she had devised.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Of Pivots**

Link spent the time between Ganondorf's arrival and his thirteenth birthday showing Alya and Nabira around the Palace, and finishing his studies and combat training.

Ganondorf joined Link's pre-dawn practice, and the Gerudo King was pleased with his progress, though the boy had a little more trouble fighting the larger man as he'd mostly sparred with boys his age in the absence of his stepfather.

With the new, greater intensity of his training, Link was often quite sore, and began to take long soaks in the tub to ease his aches and pains.

The more time passed, the more a certain thought recurred in his mind. Finally, he cornered Ganondorf.

"Why?" He asked, and the Gerudo King looked perturbed.

"Why what? I thought I had taught you to speak explicitly."

Link groaned, and corrected himself.

"Why pick me to collect the blood of three races? I mean, I'm only twelve – well, almost thirteen. Surely there must be someone better to go on these missions!"

"In fact, there were."

"What?" Link questioned, and Ganondorf sighed, bringing up a broad hand to massaged his temples.

"Aside from you, there are only two others who I trust enough with my plans, can move freely in Hylian circles, and whom are not too valuable to move from their current position. I sent these two – and no, I will not divulge their names – to the Zora and up to Gorons. The first likely offended the Zora, as their drowned corpse washed up on the riverbank near Flatmouth. The other was physically frail, and was crippled in a freak rockslide. You are my best hope of succeeding – and surpassing both of those I sent off first. You make friends easily, you are young and nimble, and by the Goddesses you are more blessed and canny than any Hylian stripling I have had the fortune to meet. You, Link, are my last hope to put the Hylians in their place. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Link whispered, feeling trapped.

"Good." Ganondorf let go of the boy's shoulders and leaned back. When had he grabbed onto Link? The Hylian youth hadn't noticed it. "Very good, Link." And the Gerudo King left him there, to struggle with himself.

With spring slowly approaching, Link began to read up on the Gorons, Zora, and the denizens of the Lost Woods, looking for the key to gathering a sample of each people's blood, willingly given.

The Gorons lived in the heart of the volcanic Death Mountain, and according to the legends and dated reports, they 'ate fire.' What this meant, Link wasn't sure. Only time and experience would tell.

The Zora were sirens, of a sort – part fish, part man or woman. Unlike the Gorons, the Zora were a reclusive sort, but were actually spread throughout much of Hyrule, in Lake Hylia, the rivers, lake chains, and the Sourcewater – the great drainage basin of the mighty Zora River. The Sourcewater itself was held as sacred to the fishlike people. Their slippery skins dried out quickly, so they could not move far from a water source.

The Kokiri themselves were hidden deep in the dank depths of the southeastern rainforest named the Lost Woods (a rather uncreative name, Link thought, were it not for the winding, mazelike paths inside). Apparently they never aged, but all reports and records about the mysterious children were so dated that great care had to be taken to not damage the aged parchments.

It was a daunting task. One he would have to do alone. He wasn't quite sure _how_ he would do it, exactly, but it had to be done, nonetheless.

Link sighed deeply, then stretched in his chair, pushing away from the desk as he yawned. Hard to believe he was turning thirteen tomorrow. He yawned again, and decided to turn in for the night, standing up and stumbling towards the bedroom. He pulled on warm nightclothes, headed to the bathroom to wash his face and clean his teeth. That done, Link ran a circular bed warmer between the sheets, then turned the warmer's heat off, and sank gratefully into bed, snuggling up under the down-filled comforter.

Tanner woke Link at dawn, as usual. Link stubbornly remained in bed for about fifteen minutes, just savoring the warmth of the bedclothes and the comforting weight of the evergreen and gold patterned comforter. Finally, though, he gave in to reason and flopped out of bed rather gracelessly. Despite the heating charms set up in his rooms, the cold floor still stung his bare feet. It was not yet Midwinter, and the days were still getting longer and colder. Link hurriedly pulled on a pair of thick socks, before leaving his bedroom for the sitting area of his rooms, where he had pushed chairs out of the way to make a space to practice in. At first when the cold weather had hit, he had warmed the courtyard with spells, but had quickly given up and started training indoors, as the area warming charms took too much energy to be practical.

He didn't train much, not on his birthday, but he'd followed the same morning routine so often that it was soothing rather than tiresome, and by the time he was done with the last set of the Fox forms, he was fully awake. After washing up, Link changed out of his nightclothes and into a particularly fine change of winter clothes, a dark navy tunic, over a white shirt and trousers of the same color, all with simple, geometric black embroidery on the cuffs. Thick socks and fleece-lined shoes completed his outfit. At the chiming of the Palace bells, he bowed to the little shrine to Din he'd set up, and lit a cone of incense. He stretched luxuriously one more time, before bidding Tanner a good morning and settling down in his favorite armchair with the intent to enjoy a good book until it was time for breakfast in the Great Hall. As the cone of incense burnt down on the tiny shrine, its long tail of smoke filled the room with the scent of cedar.

At last, the clock on the mahogany mantel chimed nine times, and Link marked his place and set his book aside. He said a polite goodbye to Tanner, and locked his rooms behind him, cheerfully striding down the hall of the Green Wing. A few yards from the doorway to the halls that connected the various wings, Karlen fell into step beside his 'rival'.

"Master Link," He drawled, long legs slowing so Link's shorter, thinner legs could keep up.

"Sir Karlen," Link acknowledged warily. "Challenge anyone to a duel, lately?"

Karlen sneered, then turned his gaze away.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffed haughtily, "Duels are outdated. Nothing but the stuff of fussy tradition. Or didn't you hear?" Link grinned.

"I must have forgotten. Thank you for reminding me, Karlen." The older boy harrumphed, and was quiet until they reached the door that led to the Great Hall.

"Watch yourself around the Princess, Link of the Gerudo." Karlen said softly. "You won't get far if only _she_ likes you." Link's head snapped to look at his rival.

"Did it ever occur to you, in any of our interactions, that maybe I enjoy her company?" He asked incredulously, "Maybe I don't have to have false intentions."

"I highly doubt it, Link of the Gerudo." Karlen said stiffly, then added in a dismissive tone, "Good day to you."

"And you, Sir Knight." Link said to Karlen's back as he walked away to his table. He entered the Hall himself, and saw Zelda sitting at the High Table. She looked unusually pretty that morning, clad in a white and apple green dress, a thick robe of emerald velvet over it, and a sheer veil of pale green covering golden hair twined into braids. The Crown Princess noticed Link's regard, and twiddled the tips of her fingers at him in a subtle wave. He smiled back, and headed for his own table.

There, Danek, Arek, Harlan, and Finnes greeted him warmly, Arris a little less enthusiastically, but the stocky boy with the comically bushy eyebrows didn't sound mean, but rather, indifferent. They informed him that there would be a party for his birthday, in one of the nicer study rooms in the Old Wing, later that afternoon.

Lirina came out with trays of cinnamon rolls and _nakne_, enough for the table, in addition to the usual breakfast staples of bacon, eggs, and toast. Fruit was, unfortunately, no longer in season, and time-seals notwithstanding, was not served at the Palace for anyone besides the Royal Family during the winter.

Lirina handed Link a mug of _Kalika_ so fresh it was still scalding.

"Kancha wanted me to tell you she'll be providing food for your party as her present to you, and sends her congratulations." The servant told him.

"Thank you, Lirina, and return her regard with my own." The woman curtseyed prettily, and left to serve the other tables nearby, leaving Link to dig into a generous portion of cinnamon roll.

After breakfast Link played a few rounds of card games with his friends in Danek's rooms until it was time for the party. At fifteen o'clock, all six boys trooped down the hallway that connected the Blue Wing to the Old Wing.

The largest study room had been transformed into a fine party room – the tables pushed to one side, the sturdy sofas clustered together. On the tables sat a feast of various toasted sandwiches, finger-foods, and a rather large fruitcake, frosted white and decorated with winding geometric designs of red and blue icing. A string quartet sat in one corner, playing merry tunes just quiet enough for the party goers to still easily hold an audible conversation. Ganondorf was there, as was Alya and Nabira. Zelda sat primly at the head of the eating table, with Impa lurking close by. Along with the Princess came her female friends, Aileena, Aldrissa, Kareena, and Gilda. Ferrick and Fran had come too, as well as Ruby, Deana, Tanner, and Kancha.

With girls there, the boys were allowed to dance with them under the close supervision of Ferrick and Impa. Whirling Zelda through a jig, Link was grateful he'd taken lessons from Ferrick and Fran on Hylian dancing in order to prepare for the Midwinter festivities. When all the food had been eaten, everyone tired of dancing and games of pantomime, it was time to open the presents stacked on a back table. There was some bickering over whose gift should be first. The matter was settled by Zelda, who calmly decreed that Ganondorf's gift should be opened first.

Link tore brown paper off a wooden crate, and sifted through sawdust to pull out a sheathed scimitar. Drawing the blade, he found it was finely hammered steel, with a bit of turquoise in the hilt, and dark etchings on the flat of the curved sword. Link tested the edge and found it to be quite sharp. He murmured his thanks to his King, grinning, and the man nodded, pleased with his heir's response. When Link was about to turn to the next present, Ganondorf stopped him.

"There are more items still in the box, Link."

"Really?"

"Yes." Link dug through the wood shavings and pulled out two cloth-wrapped books – one volume a guide on edible plants around Hyrule, complete with realistic illustrations, the other a new book of riddles. The King was thanked once more, and then Zelda offered her present to Link.

It was a leather scroll-case wrapped in oilcloth. Within was a large scroll that unrolled to reveal a variety of highly detailed maps of Hyrule. Link stared, wondering why Zelda had given this present. It would be a useful item, for sure, but Zelda couldn't have known he would be leaving the Castle for the wilderness of Greater Hyrule. Could she? Link let himself grin at Zelda, and thanked her enthusiastically. As he rerolled the maps up tightly, a small note fell out. He automatically pocketed it, rather than examine it and reveal its existence, then returned the scroll to its case.

The young ladies who were friends with Zelda clamored to be next, and presented Link with a wall hanging they had made together, a scene of the desert as the sun set. Link thanked them and didn't mention that there were no coconut palms in the desert – and sparrows did not live there either. Also, the sand color was off.

Danek, Link's closest friend after Zelda, handed him a large jar that contained a powder that, when mixed with water, created a tonic to ease muscle cramps and soreness.

"I thought that would be best, since you train so much." Danek explained. It was indeed a very useful gift – and Link made sure to express his pleasure to his friend.

Arek had brought a massive variety basket of time-sealed fruit, which Link promptly released and shared with everyone – apples, oranges, grapefruit, sweet limes, pears, various berries, a pineapple, and a whole watermelon. Lirina got out a knife and cut the fruit up and divvied the portions out to the partygoers.

Harlan had bought a handsome leather belt, stamped with the Gerudo design and charmed to fit the wearer perfectly, no matter how much the person grew. There were brass fasteners for a sword belt, purse, and eating knife.

Finnes handed over a package that turned out to be a set of knives – an eating knife, a hunting knife, and a skinning knife – all with bone handles inlaid with abalone. Apparently it had come all the way from the Sourcewater, and had been crafted by one of the fishmen themselves.

Arris quietly gave Link his present – a finely crafted belt purse, with a red rupee in it for luck.

Ruby presented Link with a dragon pendant made of jade – apparently it was a charmed amulet for good luck and longevity.

When it came for his turn, Fran produced a short sword, which Link took carefully, and gasped when his dishonest sponsor let go – it was lighter than he'd thought, with a nice heft to it, perfectly balanced, and just the right length for his size.

"It be from the best swordsmith in all Imally, livin' in the boonies south of Sideland."

"It's amazing, Sir Fran." Link said, awed.

"It's magic too – this baby can channel magic through the blade. I figgered it might work better even fer you – music being naught but vibration anyhow." Link fingered the grip, which was of finely sanded wood, fitting his hand perfectly. The rest of the hilt beyond the grip was unremarkable, and Link could see there was space for his second hand, if he needed a little more leverage than usual.

"Thank you very much, Duke Fran."

"Yer welcome, laddie. Now come on, boy, there's still gifts to be opened yet."

Ferrick grinned sheepishly, holding three wrapped spheres in his arms, each the size of a large apple.

"I'm afraid my gift is not nearly as impressive as Sir Fran's is, but I hope you will like it nonetheless. Here -" He handed Link one, "Don't unwrap it, or it'll start to spoil." The younger boy turned the misshapen ball over in his hands. "My gift to you is three amber fruit, right from the Sand Cat Estates near Crimen, in South Hyrule. They haven't been time-sealed, but rather, wrapped in the leaves of the very trees they came from, then dipped in wax, and then wrapped in muslin. This process of wrapping preserves the fruit. Amber fruit is rather useful, and one bite can heal most minor wounds, and speed up the healing of larger ones. I hope you will never need to even unwrap one of these – either way, they will bring you good luck."

"Thank you, lord Ferrick." Link said quietly, and Ferrick smiled at him.

"You are very welcome, Master Link."

With all the presents given, the adults congregated in one corner to talk, while Arek broke out a new box of Riddler's Way – a game board made of wood, carved to look like a maze with spaces to place pawn-pieces. The game involved two teams, and one pawn-piece per team. The teams could advance by correctly answering a riddle given to them by the other team. Whoever made it to the center of the maze won. The game was made more complicated in that some pathways on the maze-board did not lead to the center, but to dead-ends or other paths instead. The children quickly divided into teams, with Zelda on one team and Link on the other.

It was supper time by the time the adults insisted on ending the party, and everyone agreed that there should be parties like this more often, with more games and music and less pomp and dignity as most Court parties did.

After supper, and Third Worship, Link headed back to his rooms, feeling elated, and somewhat curious about what Zelda's note was about. The Castle servants had already carried his presents back to his suite. Link noted Tanner had been at work – for the two new swords were hung up with his older weapons on his bedroom wall.

Ganondorf let himself into Link's room.

"Did you enjoy yourself today?" The older man asked, and Link nodded furiously.

"I did, sir. It'll be a shame to uproot my friend's lives, but it has to be done, doesn't it?"

"It does indeed. I have no plan to slaughter them all, so you needn't worry – it will be as bloodless as possible. So long as no one resists." Ganondorf assured his student. "Now, for the presents from family." Link perked up at that. The Gerudo King handed him a sheer piece of cloth out of a box. "From your mother, a Gerudo veil. It filters out everything but breathable air. Dust, poison, gas, smoke, all will be filtered out. It is not, however, waterproof, and will not save you from drowning, so beware." Link nodded, fingering the loops that were meant to attach around the ears. Out of the box came a small ring with a clear stone set in it. "Your Aunt Aya made this herself – an adaption of your own lightstone. It will shed bright light with the tiniest pulse of magic, or, if you are out of magic, a double tap of the stone. It will size itself on your finger, and release you when you speak your aunt's name." Next was three narrow, elegant glass jars, their tops attached by hinged wire. "Your Aunt Dinah created these, and I am sure you will find a use for unbreakable glass jars, somehow." The boy set the trio of jars aside. "And finally, a bow, quiver and arrows from Reya and Aru. The bowstring is horsehair, and will not snap or fray. The arrows have been fletched by the young warrior Aru." Link reached into the box to caress the silky finish of the bow, the wood golden and smooth under his hand. He then pulled it out, strung it with some difficulty, and tested its tension. Very good. Not perfect, like the sword from Sir Fran, but still, very good.

"Now as I understand, the servants have presents of their own to give you. I will not hinder them. Goodnight, Link."

"Goodnight, King Ganondorf." As soon as Ganondorf left, Tanner entered by way of the servant's door.

"The others should be here soon." The tall, black-haired man said, setting a box down on the dining table. Sure enough, Deana came within ten minutes of Tanner's arrival. She sat down in the chair Link offered her, sighed deeply, and swept rich brunette hair off her forehead.

"I'm afraid there will be no others tonight. Queen Alia apparently needed the others for some reason or other. I'm a bit afraid it's quite beyond me. But I have brought their gift to you." She indicated her overstuffed messenger bag. Tanner sat down next to Deana, setting a box in front of him.

"I found a shoemaker in the city, who was willing to make a commission for a young Lord. I took your favorite pair of boots for a day, so he could have the fit of you. They're a little larger to spare you some room for growing." Tanner removed the box top and drew out what looked to be a simple pair of sturdy traveling boots. "The soles are thicker than usual, and they should last you for all of your journey."

"J-journey?" Link stammered, staring. Tanner chuckled.

"I'm in on it. You were the one who changed my mind – that nobles could be different… _Should_be different, and treat their servants better. It's time the people of Hyrule had a king who thinks of more than the next feast or hunt, a queen who provides a good example to all women, not some frivolous harpy."

"I knew as well," Deana confessed, "Though I do not know how it will come about. The less I know, the better. But I have hope that things will change, soon. Too long have I been mocked for being a message girl, and of the fourth rank. My gift to you, Master Link, is a guided tour of the city, before you go in the spring. I think, however, the most valuable gift," And here she pulled a strange leather bag out of her message bag., "Is this unusual bag which will serve you well as a pack. Though how the others found this, let alone afford it, I do not know." Link took the bag, which was worn, battered leather, adorned by a single rupee set into the hide.

"Where is the opening?" He wondered, turning it over. Deana smiled.

"To put something in it, simply touch the item to the rupee. When you want the item, touch the rupee and the opening will reveal itself. It holds more than it should possibly hold. How much, I do not know. You will have to find it yourself." The sitting area clock chimed ten times, and Deana stood. "I should go – it is late."

"Deana -" She turned, "Thank you, and please send my thanks to the others. You all have helped me more than you would know." She smiled brightly, and curtseyed.

"I will, Master Link. Goodnight." Tanner showed her the way out, and Link sat back with a sighed, thoughts churning furiously.

So they knew. They knew. They even trusted him, had faith in him! How could he… everything was just so cockeyed…

And as for Zelda, that was the worst part of it. He didn't want to betray her. Didn't want to see her in his mind, distraught again, like with Elba, only worse, because it would be his fault, his willing betrayal of her trust.

Bile rose in his throat at the very image of it, and he swallowed hard. Then again, pushing down acid. He ran to the bathroom, and retched into the toilet, violently. That seemed to make his stomach feel a little better, but guilt still gripped his heart in a steely grasp. When his shaking stopped, he rose and rinsed the taste of acid and fruitcake out of his mouth.

Suddenly, he felt very tired, after the long day, with all its excitement and revelations. Link washed up quietly, slowly winding down to bed. As he changed out of his clothes, a note fell from his pocket.

It was Zelda's note – the one hidden in the scroll she'd given him.

_Link,_

_I hope you enjoy this scroll of maps. I have a feeling they'll be useful. They were only the first part of my gift to you. Meet me at the same salon you gave me Nutmeg in, after lunch, next Starsday. I need to talk with you._

_Sincerely,_

_Zelda._

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Of Betrayal and Midwinter**

Starsday came swifter than Link had imagined. Usually he looked forward to his time with Zelda, but this was quite a different situation. Time had run out – it was time to make a decision. One he wasn't even sure he could go through with. Betrayal could be fatal when one had sworn a blood oath.

He knocked hesitantly on the door of the River Room, steeling himself for whatever might happen. Impa let him in, and Zelda looked up with a shy smile. It was really quite remarkable, Link thought, how she seemed to get prettier every time he saw her. One day, if he ever had the opportunity to in the future, he might ask why that was. And when had he gotten used to her pointed Hylian ears? Once, it had reminded him that ultimately, she was just another Hylian fool to deceive. Now? Those long ears merely fit her delicate, articulately boned face.

"Good evening, Master Link." The Princess said, a lilt of pleasure in her voice.

"Evening, Crown Princess Zelda." Link replied, bowing with that extra flourish she enjoyed, the one Ferrick had taught him before sitting next to her. "I believe you wanted to talk?" Zelda nibbled her lower lip, before plunging in.

"Link, I think Duke Ganondorf is going to try to overthrow my father's rule." Link stared at her stonily. She stared back, frank worry on her face. "Are you in on it?" He said nothing. "That's why you've been so busy making friends with everyone, haven't you? Even with Karlen." She paused to analyze Link's expression, and her face fell. "Is that all it ever was? We're friends because I'm the princess?" He made a garbled noise in the back of his throat.

"Only at first, Zelda." He forced out painfully. Her clever green eyes narrowed.

"So that's it…" She whispered. "You've been under a blood oath the entire time? Sworn to Ganondorf." He nodded, and just that, that little bit of honesty shot pain through his veins, courtesy of the blood oath. Ganondorf had never been one for easy punishments, after all. "I can solve that." Zelda said, and pulled an object out of a silk bag.

It was an ocarina, made of some vaguely blue-purple metal, winding, delicate etchings filled in with silver. Zelda took his sweating hand and placed the blue ocarina into his hand. It was warm, and the pain from the broken oath disappeared altogether.

"I bestow onto you, Link of the Gerudo," She said solemnly, curling his hand around it, "The Ocarina of Time. A sacred instrument that overrides all oaths. You're free now, Link, to do whatever you want. I owed you an ocarina anyways." She added penitently. Link smiled weakly.

"So what now?" He wanted to know. She frowned.

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"Zelda, Zelda, Zelda." He said, enjoying the privilege to say it so casually, and pleased to be free. "You figured it out – Ganondorf, the throne, even the blood oath. I know you – you don't just reveal things without a reason. Do you know what he'd going to do? King Ganondorf's going to 'keep things as bloodless as possible. So long as they don't resist.' Those were his words. Of course they're going to resist!" He turned to stare out the window, at the slowly fading sunlight outside. "Look – the Hylian, er… I mean your father the king, he isn't exactly the greatest. Southern Hyrule isn't being treated right, not by the North. But he doesn't deserve to die."

"I know." The princess said softly. "But we can change things. One day I'm going to be Queen. Whoever marries me will be the King of all Hyrule. And well…" She blushed and didn't continue.

"You'd prefer me. I've heard." Link accused softly.

"Yes." Zelda said quietly. "I do. You're Southern. And you represent the Gerudo. If we can stop Ganondorf, if _you_ stop him… You'll be a hero, a hero the South approves of, and the Gerudo people will be spared, as you'll have stopped the betrayal and kept it within the family, so to speak. I think… I think he's trying to get the Triforce to overthrow my father." Link sighed.

"He is. But not the way you think." He said quietly, feeling a slight pang of guilt at the thought of his king. His stepfather, who had been unwise, not evil. She blinked at his words.

"What?"

"A long time ago, Lake Hylia was settled by the Gerudo. Hylian conquerors from the North massacred most of the Gerudo population. The surviving women were given - no, _allowed_the Haunted Wasteland and the adjoining valley to live in."

"That can't be true!"

"Like it or not, it is." Link insisted. "King Ganondorf wants to use the Triforce to retake the lake. Or at least, that's what he told me when I asked." He added petulantly.

"I don't believe he'd stop there." Zelda said. "Why take the lake when he could take all of Hyrule? After all, he doesn't approve of how my father rules. And why would he have you making all sorts of allies here, why would he bother to get the Southern lords on his side?"

"Fair point." The boy admitted, then sighed gustily. "So what do you want me to do about it? Obviously, I can move more freely than you can." The princess nibbled her lip, then nervously rearranged her veil.

"I think you should gather the keys to the Triforce, so we can get to it before Ganondorf. If we can reveal his plot, you'll be a hero – and if we play things right, one day be king of Hyrule. When we're in charge, we can put an end to the poor treatment of the Gerudo, make everything truly equal."

"You think you can do all that as Queen?"

"It was what I was born to do, Link." She said firmly, and he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Fair enough. _He_ planned on my gathering the keys anyways. I think I can fool him."

"You can?" She asked archly, and he grinned at her sharply.

"I can." Link vowed. Zelda smiled primly, pleased.

"Good, then."

"What wish are you going to make on the Triforce, anyways?" He wanted to know, and she arched her delicate eyebrows.

"When were you planning to leave the Castle to search for the keys?"

"Early spring."

"Then we have until then to decide. And also? You already have the first key to the Triforce."

"The ocarina?" He said, trying his first guess.

"Yes." Zelda confirmed, nodding. Impa cleared her throat deliberately, and the two children fell silent. Voices were heard in the hall, a group of noble women who chatted loudly as they passed the door to the River Room. When they had passed, the pair waited in silence for a long time.

"We… should probably save any more talk for another time." Link said softly.

"I suppose so." Zelda agreed just as quietly, and reached for her harp. Link picked up his new ocarina, and tried a simple melody on it.

The result was clear, slightly mournful sound, a faint echo wavering on the distant edge of the music as it filled the room. The metal was still warm under Link's hands. Zelda gently added a harmony to the notes Link played, deftly plucking strings.

They played together for about an hour before Impa strolled over to where the two children sat.

"Zelda, you are needed in three hours, for the Court. It will take some time to prepare. I'm afraid the both of you must cut this planning session short for today." Zelda sighed.

"Very well, Impa. It was good talking to you, Link. Let's meet again next week, to talk some more. Same place as today."

"Until then, Princess." Link agreed, and left.

With Link's birthday behind him, Link began to prepare for the festivities of Midwinter and the new year. The Midwinter feast at the Palace was legendary – slabs of ox roasted on a spit, quails stuffed with orange peels and roasted whole, and on one day, a luncheon meal of nothing but dessert.

During class, the boy's tutors began to focus more and more on sacred traditions, deportment, and dancing skills.

Link and Zelda continued to plot, but didn't focus on it much when they met to talk or play music together. There was still plenty of time.

Midwinter was something everyone looked forward to – good food, dancing, displays of illusion and sky-fire from mages, games played with friends, and theatrical productions of history and legends.

Link kept up his act of eager cooperation with his King. Ganondorf didn't seem to notice any difference.

Alia, Queen of Hyrule, and former daughter of the Duke of Slainway, eyed the fabrics presented to her for the Midwinter dances and Court appearances. At her side stood a deferential dressmaker by the name of Rukana, who clutched a slim book filled with dress designs, each drawn especially for the Queen, lines of color filled in painstakingly.

"Midnight blue silk, taffeta, for the first design, I think," Alia said, and Rukana hastily scribbled that down in her book. "I liked the seed pearl beads on the neck and bodice, you may keep that little detail. Make the embroidery that of gold thread. The second design wasn't any good, nor the fourth and seventh, but I think purple satin and garnets will do for the third, with those ribbons you presented, in red-violet. The fifth design should be in blue, with moonstones and white lace, and the sixth must be white with diamonds and silver thread. That will be all." The dressmaker Rukana bobbed her head in agreement, wrote down the Queen's words, and fled the dressing room. No one wanted to offend the Queen – she could make any offender's life miserable after the slightest mistake. Rukana congratulated herself for escaping the appointment with Queen Alia without any trouble, and at least the woman had a good sense of design and color, or it would have been a nightmare.

In her private bedroom, Alia idly sifted through the bottles and boxes in a hidden drawer. They were all various aphrodisiacs, the best money could buy.

It wasn't that she didn't love her husband, the King. She did, but not in the way people love each other in the ballads and legends. It was the love of long-acquaintance, of familiarity and careful maneuvering to please him. Publicly, Alia and Daphnes had fostered an image of regal tenderness and duty. She wasn't attracted to him, though of course he was – and perhaps that was what mattered. There was no condemnation for her inability to produce a son, but there was disappointment on his part. To keep the relationship viable, she'd taken a potion - an aphrodisiac - once every week and waited for her lord husband in the marriage bed.

She'd had her hopes, at seventeen, to marry a local lord, younger and more handsome, and been chosen to wed the King instead. Daphnes Harkinian Hyrule was not a man you said no to, and that had been that. Ancient history now, seventeen years ago.

She selected a green bottle, uncorked it, poured a measure of the liquid within into her wine, and downed the glass in one long gulp.

The taste of it lingered bitterly on her tongue.

The three weeks until Midwinter came and went quickly. Mages from the White Wing charmed all the fires in the Castle to glow blue-white instead of red-gold. Banners of white and blue were hung in the Great Hall, illusion-snow fell from the ceiling and disappeared before touching down.

Kancha started serving pitchers of a warm drink with a creamy consistency very much like that of _Kalika_. It was made of cream, eggs, nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar, called 'eggnog.' Link found it good, but fattening. The winter meals became heavier and richer, but by now Link was used to Northern food, mostly. Someday, when his food needs slowed down, the amount of food most Northerners consumed would be too much, but until then, Link didn't need to worry about his growth being stunted.

And then, suddenly, Midwinter was upon them, six busy days of festivities, three to see out the old year, three more to welcome the new.

The first day celebrated the element of water. Great ice sculptures decorated the hallways and stood as centerpieces in the Great Hall. There were miniature mountains in ice, complete with blue glaciers and running streams and lakes, beautiful maidens, swans, heroes of legend, flowers, monsters, castles, and even members of the royal family. Blue and purple were the theme colors for the Day of Water, and everyone wore elaborate outfits in those colors.

That night the feasting focused on seafood, pulled from the fresh water of river and mountain stream, of the clear waters of Lake Hylia – fish, crustaceans, cephalopods, and shellfish. At the end of the feast, sorbet was served, in various flavors.

The second day featured the land. The ice sculptures were replaced with flowers and wooden carvings. Banners that hung from the walls and ceiling flickered with beautiful images of places throughout Hyrule. The feast was that of beef, mutton, and venison, the colors green and brown.

The third day, the eve of Midwinter, celebrated fire, and the coming of the winter solstice. Everyone was garbed in red and yellow. Songs were sung in the halls by servants and nobles alike, spontaneous dances broke out upon a whim. It was chaos, glorious chaos. At noon the people of all Hyrule took a nap of several hour's duration, before rising at four for the resumption of more festivities. Almond butter cookies shaped like triangles were served throughout the day, delicious and soft. When the sun set, hot milk mixed with honey and spices was passed out, and the nobles bundled up and moved from the Great Hall to the large courtyard towards the front of the Palace that stood between the Silver, Gold, Yellow, and Black Wings. A massive fireworks display started, around eight, and lasted for about half an hour. By then the crowd was quite chilled, and hurried back into the Great Hall, where a massive ox-roast waited, along with more hot, spiced sweet milk, mulled wine, and hot cider. A stage had been erected behind the High Table, which had been moved to the side to give the lower tables a better view. The food was silently blessed by a priest, before everyone dug in. When everyone had been served, the night's entertainment began, first with a show of mage-fire and illusions even more awe-inspiring than the fireworks had been. That lasted for a few hours, and people had begun to talk to those at their tables by the end of the display. There was a break of three hours for the Palace nobles to freshen up and rest, and then they returned to the Great Hall for dessert and the theatrical productions everyone had been waiting for.

First a group of dancers recreated the creation of Hyrule by the three Goddesses, nimble and graceful in their strange, bright costumes. Next came a play, which told the tale of the first Hyrulean king, King Harkinian the First, and his conquest of much of Northern Hyrule. After that, came the main attraction, a new opera – that which retold the tale of Thereo and Aldra, heroes of Hyrule, and their defeat of the evil Albycon. It was an interesting view of the legend Link now knew quite well. The opera focused on three conflicts – the struggle Thereo had in uniting the different races of Hyrule, the internal struggle the Foreigner felt between his love for Aldra and his desire to leave to fight the Dark Lord Kamiarn, and Aldra's love for a man she knew would outlast her and never age. The music was excellent, as was the singing and acting, and before anyone knew it, it was four in the morning.

Kettles of coffee and tea were brought to each table, and as the opera wound down, the actors playing Aldra and Thereo singing their farewells, a second wave of almond cookies was served.

The stage was tidied up after the opera, and musicians came out to play easy, bright songs, to keep everyone awake.

Breakfast was served – eggs prepared in a variety of ways, bacon, waffles, oatmeal and many other treats. By that time, Link was feeling tired and quite full, sitting at the Boy's Table. Danek pulled out a deck of cards, and the boys began a lively game of Lammys Run-down.

At dawn everyone left the Hall for the courtyard once more to watch the sun rise, some watchers softly singing a welcome to the first sun of the new year. It was traditional to stay awake until eight on the day of the New Year, so Link spent some time to read, unwind, and go through his weapons forms to burn off some of the heavy food he'd eaten. He took a long bath in his rooms, dressed in gold and orange as everyone else did, and returned to his friends to spend the day celebrating the sun.

The feast that day featured all sorts of cooked birds. There was the long-awaited quail stuffed with orange, chicken, duck, swan, pheasant, guay, and even giant _tukay_. Also, the thick, crusty dark bread served with cold butter was particularly delicious.

At last the day was over, and everyone in the Palace gratefully retreated to their beds after the long two days without sleep.

The fifth day of Midwinter centered around the moon. The fine clothing around the Castle was white, silver, and blue. Queen Alia herself wore a stunning, rather decadent white gown that sparkled with diamonds and silver, and tinkled softly with every movement. Around the Castle, silver streamers hung from every surface, their expanses faintly dappled. Silver centerpieces shaped like silver hind reared on their hind legs, single horn long and spiraled. That day had the luncheon of nothing but sweets and desserts. There was custard, cakes, cookies, sorbet, candies, meringues, sugared flowers and many, many other confections. The boys eagerly stuffed themselves, as did Link, even though he knew he would regret it later, but that was part of the fun of the indulgence, the stomach-aches afterward. That night, the late feast centered around stews and soups. There was everything from thick hearty stews to delicate, thin consomme. Link devoured several servings of beef and root-vegetable stew, sopping up the rich gravy with thick chunks of bread.

Finally, came the last day, the Days of Stars. The garb worn that day was every color in pale pastel, the entire Castle seemed to sparkle and dance, floating jewels suspended in the air, light winking in and out of them. Everything served that day seemed to be leftovers of the previous five days, which signaled to Link that things would soon return their usual state. Which was good, because if he saw thin custard cream served with meat one more time, he might as well just leave now and return to the Fortress, where they at least knew how to serve healthy food, if in small portions. One more day of decadence, and he knew he would start jiggling.

Of course, such decadence was not possible for most of the citizens of Hyrule. Instead of complete outfits, the commoners and low nobles of Hyrule wore ribbons of the corresponding colors for each day. There was meat served on each of the six days, even if some families could only afford to eat meat during Midwinter, and not on the other three-hundred and ninety-four days. Incense was burned at local temples, songs sung and a candle lit for every night of Midwinter by the eldest man of the family. The night of Midwinter's Eve, everyone stayed awake until the next evening, just as was done in Hyrule Castle. Larger cities did have public displays of mage-fire and sky-illusions, and carolers went from door to door, singing for a treat like a apple or plum, or donations of rupees.

For those with less, it was a simpler celebration, one centered more around family than entertainment.

Zelda was unavailable through the entire holiday, so the day after the festivities ended, Link went to see her. They spoke quietly for several hours about which race Link would approach first on his search, and decided he should start with the Gorons, and work his way south.

The plotting pair continued to plan, as the days grew longer. The Gerudo visitors Alya and Nabira returned to the Gerudo Province a month into the new year. Ganondorf disappeared twice in the following three months, returning on the first day of spring. The time passed swiftly, and before they knew it, the snow had begun to melt, heralding Link's imminent departure.

**Chapter Thirty: Of Departures**

_It's the time of the turning and there's something stirring outside_

_If you stop for a moment you can feel it all slipping away_

_It's the time of the turning and the old world's falling_

_Nothing you can do can stop the next emerging_

_Time of the turning and we'd better learn to say our goodbyes._

~ Time of the Turning (Reprise) – Peter Gabriel

Just because he'd made the decision to betray, it didn't mean Link felt no guilt. He began to sleep poorly, and Ganondorf noticed.

"Second thoughts, Link?" The man asked in concern, and Link's stomach dropped.

"I'll stick to the plan, if that's what you're worried about." The boy muttered, not specifying which plan he was following.

"Then buck it up, boy." Ganondorf advised, patting his heir on the head. "I'm depending on you."

Even Zelda noticed.

"Why the long face?" She wanted to know during one of their meetings, "Surely you can't have lost your nerve?"

That did it for him.

"Why shouldn't I have?" Link snapped, and the princess recoiled at the anger in his voice. Impa brushed her hand against the short sword strapped to her back, and Link sat back in his chair, still angry. "I'm only betraying the people who took me in and raised me, the man who taught me and brought me here. Din above!" He swore, and dragged a hand through his hair, looking away from her. "It's never that simple, Zelda. Never. This plan may save much of Hyrule from revolution, but it's my people on the line. They'll be the ones to suffer if I go through with this. And don't you dare forget that."'

Zelda looked away, biting her lower lip.

"I won't, Link." She said, and he chuckled weakly, humorlessly.

"I can't even imagine, the look on his face when he realizes what I've done, you know? He'll be devastated. I couldn't do it to you, though. There's just no way to win, no easy choice."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, evergreen eyes dull.

"After all _he_has done for me… He won't forgive me this. Did you know – I practically killed his oldest daughter. Her name was Rabiyu, and she was practically my sister, years ago." Zelda watched in horrified fascination as tears welled up in his eyes. "I did something stupid and she was wounded when she saved me. If she hadn't been hurt, she would have survived the assassins that went after him. My fault!" He choked out, and the princess laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"That can't be true, Link. It was her time." She said in an attempt to soothe, and he sneered.

"You'd know? You know nothing! She was pregnant with the next heir to the Gerudo throne, and _it was her time?_ I can't believe it. I'll never be as good as her, even in death. I couldn't even stay loyal to my king." Zelda's eyes flashed with anger.

"You think I like trying to save the country from my father and his forefathers' mistakes? You think I like pretending to be some weakling halfwit girl? My entire life planned out for me, dull and joyless? I'm sick of all this deceit. I understand you're scared, Link. So am I. But ultimately, it's your choice and you chose. Now pull yourself together, Link, it's unseemly." She shoved a handkerchief at her best friend, and he hastily wiped his teary eyes.

"Thank you, Zelda." He said, folding the damp cloth square and handed it back. "Come now, let's talk of lighter things."

"Very well." She said, slipping the handkerchief up her sleeve. "Are you sure you'll be all right going through with the plan?"

"I'll have to be, won't I?" Was all he said, and pasted a frighteningly cheerful smile on his face. He acted happy for the rest of the meeting, but Zelda watched him closely for the rest of their time together, frank worry on her face.

A week before he was due to leave, Link went down the hill to Hyrule City, with Deana as his guide, a few hours before dawn. Breakfast had been a rather hurried affair, spiced oatmeal and scrambled eggs from the servant's wing.

The sun had risen by the time they reached the edge of the massive Hyrule Market Square, the traffic already at full flow, chickens squawking, wagon wheels groaning and rattling. The pair of nobles paused at the elaborate fountain in the center to enjoy the music from a group of musicians – two fiddlers, a piper, and a woman who danced with a tambourine for money. The frost on the ground melted as the sun's rays spilled over the roofs of the city buildings onto the cold cobblestones.

They visited an apothecary, with its bundles of aromatic sticks, herbs, fangs, bones, jars of powder and potions. A massive pestle and mortar sat ready to use on the front counter. Link ended up with a fit of sneezing after sniffing too many ingredients.

Link purchased a handy cloth for cleaning steel blades, and a smeary wax to prevent rust in a tiny, cramped little shop on the second floor above a greengrocer's.

He and Deana tried their hand at a shooting gallery, and found that Deana had a better hand at the slingshot games, but not as good at archery, which made Link miss Aru and Reya a little. Reya would have surely carried off the grand prize – a jar of star spice.

They went through several bookstores over the course of several hours, and a spice shop, before having a snack at a little stall that sold little honey cakes, freshly fried.

A strange little shop featured nothing but fantastically carved masks, but the owner was out, so they could not buy anything, only look. Link was tempted to steal a fine ridge-cat mask, but didn't, as he'd heard the whispers of anti-thief spells – and didn't want Deana to see him in a poor light.

After that, they had some more food – this time grilled sausages on sticks. They went into a glassblower's studio, and watched the artisan work his magic. Deana purchased a necklace made of blue glass beads, and Link had a good long talk with the glassblower about Gerudo glass and pigment quality. Finally, Link gave the man his Aunt Dinah's address so the man could talk to his aunt if they so chose – maybe Dinah might want to have a child, a girl with glassblowing in her blood, and then Deana and Link left the shop.

They stopped to listen to more music along the way, and finally made their way over to the towering bulk of the Temple of Time.

The white marble sparkled in the sunlight, the gold and copper domed heights still vibrant and brilliant after all the ages. A line of mysterious, rather lumpen-shaped statues stood along the finely paved path to the massive door of the cathedral. A horde of monster-shaped gargoyles perched above the great lintel, peering down upon any trespassers entering the sacred interior, most of them with fangs and nightmarish amounts of limbs and eyes. Link wondered if the frightening statues were meant to be comforting – did they protect the church, or did they just want to eat anyone foolish enough to enter?

Noise suddenly hushed as they entered the sanctuary, sounds muted and vaguely echoing. A little like, in fact, Link's new ocarina.

No one actually worshiped in this temple. That privilege was reserved for the Hill Temple, on the other side of the city, which was far less… monumental.

They quietly roamed the abandoned chambers of the temple, taking in the cool shadows and rays of light that streamed through colored windows that were stained in three colors – red, blue, and green. Link paused in the room which held the Door of Time, in front of the little altar off to one side. Six hollows, one for each race, where the blood sacrifice was to be poured. He fingered the impressions, grimy with long-settled dust, and shivered. Weren't the priests who maintained this place supposed to keep everything clean? And where were they, anyway? The interior of the Temple felt like another world, one where time had been paused, while outside ages had gone by. It was ominous, that impression of an old entity, slow and inhuman, simply biding its time for something large enough to wake it.

Link had the unhappy feeling that he would be the one to wake that sleeping presence.

He touched the altar, and whispered "Wait for me."

Deana called his name, and spooked, he left the shadows of the Temple for the brisk spring sunlight outside.

Typically, young noble boys stayed in the Palace until they were apprenticed to a knight, whereupon they would follow their master. Upon reaching twenty, they were free to go where they pleased. As Link was only thirteen, Ganondorf had come up with an excuse urgent enough to take the young prince away from the Castle.

Leyline messages were hardly private – as they required a technician to interpret the message. An urgent message had come over the lines – Nabooru, Queen of the Gerudo, was deathly ill. Link was to come to the Fortress as soon as possible, to attend to her, and perhaps oversee her funeral. The news quickly spread across the Castle.

His friends were remarkably understanding, and Link used a glamor to make circles under his eyes, eyes puffy and pink, skin a little paler. He affected carefully hidden grief, and everyone fell for it. He was given time off from school to prepare for his 'trip.'

These days, all it seemed he did was pack. Tanner had gone and procured servant's clothing in Link's sizes, so he wouldn't stand out from a typical commoner boy. He'd take his new sword and scimitar, his bow and quiver, his scroll of maps, his set of ocarinas, his cleaning cloths for his blades, the pain powder and amber fruit, the veil from his mother, his lockpicks, and the set of unbreakable jars. All of that fit easily inside his magical pack, and the leather bag didn't seem to weigh much more than a few grams more even with all those items inside it.

As he'd promised, Ferrick had procured more useful equipment for the journey – a thick, compact bedroll that felt far more comfortable than its width should allow, a thick rope of spider-silk, climbing pitons, a set of flint and steel, a small hatchet for cutting firewood or kindling, and more importantly, a light, small, blank shield.

Finally, Ganondorf set him up with a one-person tent which folded up and had barrier shields built in – making the tent utterly safe, even from hail, or something nastier and more alive.

Deana, ever practical, provided something the men had forgotten – food. She used a few favors amongst the servants, who took food from the Black Wing, the soldier's wing, foodstuffs meant for the long march. There was jerky and salted fish, dried fruits and nuts, hard cheese, various biscuits and brandy-soaked fruitcake-discs. She included a variety of hard candies, and cloth packets of instant soup and tea, as well as the requisite _Kalika_ mixes and a handy set of various seasonings for any game he might catch. Deana even managed to cram a small kettle and cooking pot in his pack, which by then seemed bottomless and held anything that could be touched by the rupee that adorned the simple bag.

Before Link knew it, all the preparations were made, and all there was left to do was to say his farewells.

Link's goodbyes to his peers were long, and a touch awkward. Danek and Arek clapped him on the back, wishing him a safe journey and for his mother's health to return, while Harlan lamented no one would stick up for him, but the younger boy was cheered when Danek vowed to look after him in Link's presence. The Gerudo prince shook hands firmly with Arris and Finnes. Karlen appeared briefly, cockily instructing Link not to fall prey to guay or heatstroke, and Link made sure to infuriate the young man by amiably agreeing.

He'd said goodbye to Zelda on his last visit, but as he was saddling up in the noble's stable, she appeared, clad in a woman's green riding outfit.

"Link." She said, Impa a large shadow behind her.

"Princess Zelda!" He said, stepping off his stirrup and back onto the ground. "I'd thought we already said our goodbyes! I-"

"Shut up." She whispered, "Just shut it, and take this." Zelda pressed a ring into his palm. He looked at it – it bore the crest of the Royal Family. "If you get into any trouble with a soldier, this will demand they assist you. The leader of any lawful settlement must feed and shelter those who bear this ring." Link put it on his thumb, where it fit snugly.

"Thank you." He whispered back, and she stepped closer. She smelled like fine soap and frankincense. "If you get lonely, ask for Danek of Kelyeso. He's a good sort, and a sharp mind. Plus, he's already engaged, so you needn't worry about improprieties." Zelda made a strangled noise in her throat, half laugh, half something else entirely.

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about _you_, Link. Be safe. Be smart and don't… Whatever you do, don't die."

"That would be my first priority, actually." He said, and she smiled at him.

"I would… very much like to kiss you, right now." She said, very quietly.

"That would be improper." Link said gravely, and she nodded.

"It would be, wouldn't it?" Zelda agreed.

"Link! You're going to be late for the caravan!" Ganondorf bellowed from the stable yard. They both looked away. Link bit his lip, torn between the Hylian princess and his king.

On a whim, he grabbed her hand, with its delicate calluses from harp-work, and squeezed it fervently.

"Goodbye, Zelda." Link said firmly, eyes catching hers, "But only for now."

"Very well." She said, smiling brightly and falsely, "Until then, Link of the Gerudo." Link nodded, put his foot in the stirrup, and swung himself onto his horse's back, as the princess moved back to give him room. Holding his reins firmly, he gave his horse's sides a nudge, and left the stable and his best friend behind.

As he and his king trotted down the long hill, Link dropped the spells that kept his hair its usual russet red. He caught his stepfather staring.

"It's that different?" He prompted, and Ganondorf shook his head briskly, as if to clear his thoughts.

"It is. Without your fine clothes, red hair, and insolence, few will recognize you." Absently, Link fingered a strand of his hair, pulling it into his line of sight, where it gleamed, a dark, warm blonde. Weird.

"So it is," Link marveled, shoving his hat back on his head. He'd forgone his turban – it was too distinctive – but he still preferred to wear something on his head. Today, he wore a floppy knit cap, of blue wool, to block the chill of the early spring morning.

For much of the ride down the Castle Hill, Link and Ganondorf were quiet. Link would meet up with the caravan he was supposedly traveling to the Fortress in, and pay his fare. He planned to escape the caravan halfway across the Province of the Crown, and make his way on foot to Lon, in the northernmost part of the Plains Province, where he planned to purchase a horse and head for Kakariko. From there, he would climb Death Mountain and seek out the Gorons, and their favor.

He inhaled deeply, steeling himself for his task. A year, two years. Who knew how long it would take to earn the favor of the Gorons, Zora, and Kokiri?

Are you pumped for the adventures about to begin? I know I am.

**Chapter Thirty-One: Of New Acquaintances**

"_If I gave you the truth, would it keep you alive?  
Though I'm closer to wrong  
I'm no further from right  
And now I'm convinced on the inside that something's wrong with me  
Convinced on the inside, you're so much more than me, yeah  
No there's nothing you say that can salvage the lie  
But I'm trying to keep my intentions disguised."_

Truth ~ Seether

The caravan, bound for Mudwater, was waiting in a square two streets away from the massive main square, all its wagons lined up. Caravans were the preferred way to travel through much of Hyrule if one wasn't skilled in magic. By paying a protection fee, a troop of soldiers would guard the wagons, so it was common for groups of travelers to join together to split the costs.

They found the caravan coordinator at the head of the line of wagons, a skinny rail of a man, dark-haired and pale-eyed, clad in brightest yellow.

"Hallo!" He remarked, when Link and Ganondorf approached, "You'd be the young lord Link, am I right? Headed for Mudwater."

"I am." Link confirmed.

"And you must surely be the Duke Ganondorf, of the Gerudo Province."

"That is correct." The darker man said smoothly. The coordinator blinked, then slapped his forehead.

"Oh, where are my manners? I am Carris Redfern, of the Wandering Wagons traveler's group. We will depart in forty minutes, so if you will please pay your boarding costs, we will sign the contract which will guarantee your money will be well spent." Ganondorf fished out a pair of orange rupees from his money bag, which the coordinator quickly pocketed, then pulled a long scroll out of his pocket, unrolling it with a snap. Carris Redfern's signature and blood stain sat at the top of the contract, followed by the signs and stains of those traveling with the caravan. Link took the pen Carris offered him, signing quickly, then jabbing his finger on the sharp tip of the nib, smearing a bloody fingerprint on the parchment and handed it back to the coordinator. Carris blew the blood dry, then rolled it up briskly, tucking it into his pocket once more.

"Very good, young sir. Now, as you are traveling alone, I will have you stay with the soldiers and their wagon. We have the privilege of marching with two troops during our journey – a full troop of grown men, and a trainee troop, right from the military town of Patcheem. If you would please say your goodbyes, I will introduce you to them." He retreated to a few paces away, enough distance to give the two Gerudo some privacy.

"Farewell, Link." Ganondorf said, "I am depending on you. We all are. I have three pieces of advice to give you; treat the people you meet on your journey with kindness – you never know what you might receive in return. Second, do not forget your mission – to gather the willing blood of the three groups we seek. Willing blood means you must earn it. And last, do not forget who you are. Even as you deceive others, do not deceive yourself."

"I'll remember that, sir." Link said, feeling a little guilty when he thought of the man's trust in him. Had he, Link, truly gotten so good at deceit that his own mentor didn't notice his change of heart?

"Very good, Link. Now go with my blessing; may you have a safe, fruitful journey. I would have you not only gain the three race's blood, but also their allegiance. Do you understand?" Link nodded.

"I do. Goodbye, King Ganondorf." Ganondorf nodded back, his face serious.

"Only for now." The king mounted up, gathered the reins of Link's temporary mount, and trotted away into the crowd, to return to the Castle. Link watched his king until the red-headed man was lost in the bustling traffic of Hyrule City, all his misgivings tightening in his throat. Carris Redfern sidled up to the boy, and coughed pointedly, to make Link turn to him.

"Come with me, young sir." The man said briskly, and Link tore his gaze off of the crowd, reluctantly.

"All right, Master Redfern." He acquiesced, and the caravan coordinator led him to a particularly sturdy wagon painted in the blues and golds of the Hylian military. Redfern knocked on the wooden frame, and a man's head, bristling with brown curls, popped out from behind the canvas siding.

"Hullo, Carris. What is it?" He said, his voice musical and merry. "Is it time to leave, yet?"

"Almost, Lawful." Redfern said, shaking his head. "I have a boy who will travel with your wagon."

"Huh!" Lawful said, and hopped out of the wagon to see Link. "Introduce us, then, old friend."

"This is Link of the Gerudo, Lawful. Master Link, this is Captain Lawful of the Bear clan, a soldier from Patcheem."

Patcheem was a military town, renowned throughout all of Hyrule for the excellent and numerous soldiers and officers it produced. Every boy in that town was raised from birth to be a soldier, to lead men and fight for the Hylian king. Strangely, the adults Link had overheard had also referred to the town itself as a 'bed of sin.'

"Pleasure to meet you, Master Link." Lawful said, "Come into the wagon, make yourself comfortable, and I'll appoint someone to look after you." Link scrambled into the tall wagon bed, and blinked in the dark shade behind the canvas siding. Six boys, all a few years older blinked back at him.

"'Lo!" Said a blonde boy who looked uncannily familiar, "Who're you?"

"Link of the Gerudo." Link said. The blonde boy's ugly, dark-haired companion examined the Gerudo boy.

"You never. You're Hylian just like the rest of us." He proclaimed, his young voice already matured and deepened to a velvety richness that held the beauty his face lacked.

"I'm adopted." Link replied.

"Leave him alone, Keen." A redheaded boy said from further back in the wagon. "You needn't try to bring him down to your level. Come on, I'll introduce everyone. I'm Noten, of the Borer clan. This is Geof, of the Nester clan, my pair-bond." Noten indicated the curly, chestnut-haired boy sitting next to him, who looked fifteen like his companion.

"Nice to meet you." Link said, and Geof smiled.

"In the back is Haldis of the Spine clan – the one with the shaved head - and his pair-bond Rald of the Brook clan." Rald was very tall, and gawkily muscled. "They're both fourteen. And then there's Darken of the Weaver clan," Noten indicated the familiar dark blonde boy. "And last and least, Ferrick Keen." The boy with black hair nodded curtly, his prominent brow furrowing.

"What's with the clan thing?" Link wanted to know. "I thought only Sheikah identified by clans. And what do you mean by pair-bond?"

"Patcheem was founded by Sheikah, when they first allied with Hylian King Atrues the First." Ferrick Keen said quietly. Darken nodded.

"Pair bonds and clans are a Patcheem tradition. Outside, Hylian marriages consist of a single husband and wife. In Patcheem, there are two husbands and two wives, to form the basic family. The men fight and serve together, and take care of the other's needs, while the wives raise the children together. This way, no one is left alone. The four spouses form their own new clan, and all of their children belong to that clan until they marry. Boys and girls are raised with a pair-bond, a partner their age and sex who will be spouses when they're grown." Link inclined his head curiously, at Darken's rote speech.

"Does it really work that way?"

Noten smiled. "Nineteen times out of twenty, it does."

From outside, a yell ran up and down the line of wagons, and the driver of the military wagon clucked to his horses to start pulling. With a groan and a shake, the cart started rolling. Lawful ducked into the shade of the cart back and regarded the youths for a moment, then said firmly,

"I'll be in front with Han, my pair-bond. I need two of you to watch over Link, boys. Decide it yourself, and behave. That's an order."

"_Yessir!_" The six boys chorused and saluted, kissing their fists and laying them over their hearts.. Lawful nodded, and left the back. As soon as he was gone, Geof leaned back on his seat.

"I'm not watching him." He declared, and Noten nodded.

"Let the rejects take him, then." Haldis said, indicating Darken of the Weaver clan and Ferrick Keen. Link eyed the two, who didn't seem outraged. Darken only sighed, and leaned against his pair-bond Keen, who stared at his hands, humiliated. Noten snickered and turned away to start a game of cards with his pair-bond and his two friends.

"Come on, Rick," Darken said softly, catching his mate's gaze, "It won't be that bad." Ferrick Keen snorted softly.

"I know how bad it might get, and so does my back." He said lowly, and Darken looked chagrinned.

"I guess…" The blonde boy admitted.

"Thanks for talking about me like I'm an idiot or not even _here_," Link said hotly, and Keen met the younger boy's gaze squarely with stark blue and gold eyes.

"That is not the problem. I'm not well liked here – so you'd best behave yourself or my back will feel the worst for it. Don't listen to what any of the others say. Listen only to me, the officers of the troop, and Dark here. Those boys won't speak the truth. In fact, they'll probably tell you it's perfectly all right to eat as much rations as you want, or guzzle all the water. Or maybe they'll tell you it's a tradition for every traveler to carve their names into the wagon." His hard mouth quirked ironically. "Yes, that was a good one that they made up last month. All that matters is that I'll feel the heat if you step out of line, nobility or not. It's nothing personal – but I can't afford another whipping."

"I thought whippings were common in the military, that they train soldiers to stand pain." Link commented, and Dark shook his head.

"They're common enough, but standard punishment is maybe three lashes-"

"—Where I get a dozen, and they can't heal me afterward, or even give me the tonic that keeps infection away as it's magicked." Keen said, teeth bared. "Magic and I don't mix well. Call it a curse. You can understand my caution, can't you?"

"But that's barbaric!" Link protested, and redheaded Noten glanced over his shoulder at the outburst, then turned back to his hand and the card game. "Why would anyone act like that?" Dark flinched, and looked away. Keen simply spread his fingers, eyeing them instead of meeting Link's gaze.

"Why would anyone care about rape-get?" The young man said with a shrug, "Only one person. And he's saddled with me for life." Keen shook his head, then chuckled. "But hey - you don't need to hear my sorry tale. Just obey me, and I'll manage as I always do."

"With my help, Rick." Dark scolded, his still-deepening voice cracking, and then flushed. He turned to Link to cover his embarrassment. "So you were adopted by the Amazons? I'm sure there's quite a tale behind that, especially since you've lived in the Palace itself." Keen brightened.

"Yes – that's a story I'd like to hear, if you wouldn't mind bending our ear for an hour or two."

And so Link told them his tale – embellished, of course – of his abandonment and how Nabooru had found him bundled up in the woods at the base of a tree, like a fallen fruit. He spoke of Aya and Dinah (and here the pair from Patcheem nodded without disgust, for love amongst those of the same sex was nothing unusual to them). He spoke of growing up in land between desert and arid valley, with Reya, Aru, Sooru, and Haati, of the courtyard where everyone took their meals, of the public gardens nearby. He spoke of Rabiyu, and her death, and how her death had galvanized Ganondorf and Ferrick Rauros to action, how it had forced the Hylian King to accept the Gerudo territory as a new province of Hyrule. Finally he spoke of the long journey to the Capitol to represent the Gerudo and to take his place as the future heir to the Gerudo Dukedom, and the cities and sights he'd seen along the way. He briefly went over his year spent there, the friends he'd made.

Dark and Keen listened raptly, and asked Link questions of the Royal Family – who answered as best he could- but he only mentioned that the Princess was a passing acquaintance. That seemed to satisfy them.

"Hey, you're from the South, right?" Dark said when Link had finished, "What do you think of the insurrection in Sideland?" The younger blonde blinked in shock.

"Rebellion in the Imally Province? I didn't hear about it…"

"Typical." Keen said scornfully, shaking his dark head. "No offense to you, of course, but the less careful soldiers talk of the Palace's disconnection from the rest of the world. A civilian mob set fire to a chateau in Sideland. When the nobility who lived there escaped the flames, the crowd stripped them of their clothes and marched them out of town and locked them out of the gates, in the winter rain. Fortunate for them that it doesn't get as cold in the South as it does up North. The civilians have taken over the town, and strictly regulate any passage in and out of town. The King won't stand this for much longer – most of Hyrule's salt comes from Sideland's mines, and they make some of the finest brandy in their local distilleries. He ordered a thousand soldiers from the city of Imally to shut the rebels out a month ago – and no word has been heard of Sideland's defeat yet."

"The soldiers were defeated?" Link wondered, and Dark rolled his wrist in a circular, negative gesture common to Northern soldiers.

"Mutiny is more likely." He said roughly, "Duke Fran hasn't sent for more since he returned to rule in person – he's probably helping the Sideland rebels. Everyone knows Imally is only loyal to itself." Dark sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as a ray of sunlight shot through the gap between canvas and wagon frame, then reopened one and turned to the Gerudo boy. "Did you ever meet Fran the Bastard when you were at Hyrule Castle?"

"Not often," Link lied, "I think he deliberately let everyone think he was a fool."

"The lords of the South often practice such deception." Keen murmured, his voice velvety as he stared at Link. Link stared right back, and the man's eyes flickered away.

"Try to think from their perspective, though, Keen," Link said, keeping his tone casual, "The South now outnumbers the North by three to one, but most Southern nobility is of lower-rank in the Court, or newly deemed, with less influence than a man who holds a tenth of the land they rule. To win the game you must play the game, so to speak."

Keen shrugged.

"I know about deception. Sooner or later, the secret gets out, and then your superior flays your back open, or beggars you with chores. The South must still answer to the King." Keen pinned Link with a blue-eyed stare. "I know my allegiance - and I know my place." Link flushed, but kept his face clear of the anger Keen's words had roused in him. The man was practically accusing him of betrayal – accurately enough. Dark laid a calloused hand on his bond-mate's shoulder.

"This is heavy talk," He complained. "And we're not even grown men yet. Let's change the subject, if you please." Keen's eyes softened, and he looked away.

"Fine. Link – what's your opinion of Northern food? I know Southerners eat an awful lot of rice…"

And they were off again, this time on a rousing discussion of food, as the wagons of the caravan rumbled on along the Province of the Crown highways.

Night fell, and the boys found spots on the ground to unroll their bedrolls. Rald and Haldis took the night's watch while their fellow trainees made themselves comfortable.

After a long day, Link quickly fell asleep, to dream of the desert, and the burning chateau in Sideland. In his dreams the noble family was the Royal Family of Hyrule, and the crowd jeered as they stripped Zelda of her veils and nightdress. He watched, knowing Ganondorf had somehow brought the scene about. Out from behind the Palace walls, without the elaborate magical charms that ensured good dreams, his nightmares returned stronger than ever. Soon he was thrashing in his sleep, brought back to the cave behind the waterfall, with Zelda at his and Reya's side, and he knew that she would die— she was shouting his name, desperately, over and over.

"LINK!" He was roughly shaken, and awoke, confused. The moonslight lit in Dark's eyes as the older boy shook his shoulder, and Link realized with a shudder that the darker blonde's eyes were not brown as he'd thought, but rather a red so deep it resembled the same heart's blood that had spilled from Reya's mangled leg that day, long ago, in the cave.

"_What?_" Link whispered bleakly, and those awful eyes released him. Dark pulled away and stood.

"Arm yourself – we've stumbled on a Stalfos-ridden battle-grave."

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Of Brothers in Arms**

"_LINK!" He was shaken, and awoke, confused. The moonslight lit in Dark's eyes as the older boy shook his shoulder, and Link realized with a shudder that the darker blonde's eyes were not brown as he'd thought, but rather a red so deep it resembled the same heart's blood that had spilled from Reya's mangled leg that day, long ago, in the cave._

"_What?" Link whispered bleakly, and those awful eyes released him. Dark pulled away and stood._

"_Arm yourself – we've stumbled on a Stalfos-ridden battle-grave."_

Link cursed and swept up his sword and jammed his feet into his boots. Shaking, he joined Dark and Keen, whose cold eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"Come on, Link -" Keen laughed, "Time to do your part and fight alongside us! I'm honored to fight with a warrior trained in the Palace. Try to leave some for me, if you please."

Link took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. Just a pack of Stalfos – he'd fought those before, only this time he was without Ganondorf's protective shield.

The moonslight was bright enough to illuminate the scene clearly – the Hylian soldiers were spread along the caravan, as the reanimated skeletons charged, joints clicking, their rusted weapons held aloft.

As one, Link and Dark drew their swords and waited for the monsters to approach. Keen had already run off, blade ready as he ran right into a knot of Stalfos. Starlight flickered on the flashing steel of his sword, Keen's laughter ringing out in the night amongst the sounds of metal on metal, metal on bone, the shouts of the men fighting, and the keening of the monsters attacking.

And then the line of long-dead warriors reduced to bone and cartilage reached where Link stood. And then, the Gerudo boy was in motion, ducking, weaving, slashing at the arms, heads, and spines, where Stalfos were particularly vulnerable. Bone was nothing compared to honed steel.

He was beginning to sweat despite the chill night, when three Stalfos converged on him. While he was busy fending off one with his sword, the other two leapt at him. Link hastily knocked them away with two sharp whistles, and while he was distracted, the skeleton he'd engaged in swordplay made to cut him down. Panting, he threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding the rusty blade meant for his neck. Landing flat on his back, the air in Link's lungs exited his mouth with a pained _oomph_ and his sword flew from his hand into the dark maw of the night. A particularly large bone-creature headed for him, drawn by his use of magic.

Dark stepped between the Gerudo boy and the Stalfos, his sword out. He looked terrified, but held his ground. Down came the massive rusted blade of the Stalfos, and Dark caught the strike, then deflected the blow's momentum to the side, flipping his sword up to catch the mandible of the skeleton's jaw, and sent it flying into shadow with a flick of his wrist. Shrieking, the monster pulled out a rib and threw it like a knife at the blonde trainee's heart.

Dark tried to dodge, and caught the bone weapon in his shoulder with a grunt. Link yanked his newest ocarina out from under his shirt, where it hung around his neck on a gold chain. He brought it to his lips, cursing himself for not bringing it out earlier, and played a rough, broad note that threw the massive monster several yards away from Dark, where an adult solder reduced it to bone fragments with a few quick swipes.

Link ran to Dark's side, sending a second line of monsters away with a hasty four-note melody, but he could feel the subtle ache in his bones that meant he was low on magic. His next and last spell would have to count, then. Link took a deep breath, and played the song the Court musicians had played as the Hylian King lit the Midwinter candle on the Day of Fire. There was a soft, wrenching noise in the void between man and monster, and then wheeling shrieks as a dozen Stalfos burst into a holocaust of flames that should be enough to reduce even bone to ash.

The fire lit up the night as nine skeletons slowly burnt down. One close by, rushed Link, who fended the burning creature off with Dark's sword, then smashed the fiery head. He dropped the sword as it grew red-hot from the flames.

The other two, still burning but seemingly unharmed, approached the two blonde boys, who were both unable to fight back – Dark slowly bleeding out, Link drained of his magic and unarmed.

"Run to the wagons, Link." Dark gasped, his entire frame shaking with something more than cold, more than fear, more than pain or shock. More like something kept contained, controlled, and not as controlled as it should be. "Don't take your chances on me."

Someone snickered in the night. It rose to a chuckle, followed by heavy footsteps approaching. Keen stepped into the ring of light cast by the blazing bone-men, and took in the view.

"Bah." He said, inclining his head, "Link – the fire is magic?"

"It is!" Link hollered. Keen snickered again.

"Good." Was all he said, and he hurled himself at the first Stalfos. His clothes did not catch fire, as he let a blow from a burning hand glance off his shoulder. He pivoted, chambered his leg up, and kicked the sword out of the monster's skeletal hand. His sword in one hand, he leapt at the thing and knocked it to the ground, scattering bones everywhere. Before it could reform itself, he pierced the skull with the tip of his blade. The fire flickered out, and the bones stopped moving.

The last Stalfos advanced on Keen as he rose from his crouch over the damaged skull. He ducked the creature's swinging blade, slid into the thing's guard, and beheaded it easily. The skull fell to the earth, and Keen brought up his foot and crushed it into fragments under his heel.

All was suddenly silent, the creatures all defeated.

"Are you both all right, Link?" Keen asked, kicking an oversized femur idly to the side as he approached. Link stood weakly.

"I'm fine – just magic-drained." He managed, "But Dark is in bad shape." Alarmed, Keen hurried to his bond-mate, and cursed at the amount of blood Dark had lost.

"This is bad." He whispered, and dragged Dark over to the now safe wagons, where a medic waited, several patients already tended to. Seeing Keen practically carrying his bond-mate over, the man _tsked_, pulled the bone from the boy's shoulder and poured a smoking liquid into the bloody hole from a stoppered flask. Dark made a pained noise, his hand clenching around Keen's. When the medic was done, a dozen minutes later, Dark's wound looked more like a small, angry burn than an actual puncture in his flesh.

The medic tried to check Keen for any injuries, who scowled.

"I'm bruised at worst, sir." He said to the soldier-doctor.

"You threw yourself onto a flaming Stalfos – you must have burns, cadet."

"I'm fine, sir." Keen said, trying to escape, but the man caught him with a firm hand.

"Take off your jacket and shirt, _Cadet_ Ferrick Keen. I insist." Keen hung his head, and peeled both garments off, the torchlight revealing nothing more than a few ugly bruises. The medic did not offer Keen any of the bruise balm he had applied to Dark and the other men, and moved on to Link, whose hand was slightly burnt from the hot sword. The older man cleaned the burn, and gave Link a soothing drink for his low magic levels.

Keen settled next to Dark, slinging a bruised arm around his pair-bond. Link turned away to give them some semblance of privacy.

"Don't scare me like that…" Keen said roughly, and Dark grinned quietly.

"I'll do my best not to." He replied, stretched carefully, and then deflated against Keen's shoulder despite being taller than the older boy. "I _hate_ Stalfos, Rick. Absolutely despise them…"

Keen sighed, tightening the arm around his pair-bond. "Me too, Dark. Me too."

"I almost let it out back there…" Dark trailed off, and Keen shook his head.

"But you didn't, and that's all that matters."

Just because Link was giving them the privacy of a few yards didn't mean he couldn't listen in. He frowned, wondering what kind of secrets the two boy-soldiers kept from the world.

Would he ever have someone like that? Someone who knew all his secrets and accepted him, despite it all?

It was too much to ever hope for.

The soldiers accompanying the caravan gathered together the bones and weapons of the Stalfos', and used spells to burn them down into ash. The ash was buried, incense burned and food offered to soothe the angry dead souls who had possessed their old bones to fight the caravan which had foolishly trespassed the dead's resting place.

No one slept that night – as soon as there was adequate light, the caravan left the old battle-grave. Shifts were taken to drive and guard the line of wagons as everyone else dozed off in the back of the carts. Despite having done much of the fighting that harrowing night, Dark and Keen were unanimously selected for the longest shift, and, seemingly used to such discrimination, neither complained at their lot.

In the morning light, five days later, Dark's eyes looked brown again – like old blood rather than fresh arterial crimson.

Link had a mouthful of biscuit, so he finished chewing before he nudged Keen and asked,

"What did you mean, a week ago, when you said magic didn't mix well with you?" Keen blinked, and swallowed a long gulp of cider before answering.

"It means I have no magic."

"Everyone has magic." Link said, staring. "You mean you have no talent for it?" There were many people who didn't control their magic well enough, and chose to wear ear cuffs instead of bothering to remain in control at all times. Keen snorted.

"What I mean is that I could not use magic if I tried. Or rather, magic does not exist for me. Surely you were wondering why my ears are stunted and round rather than being properly long and pointed."

"I had noticed, but I thought it would be rude." Link replied. "So magic doesn't affect you?"

"Neither a torture curse nor a healing spell." Keen said, looking away, apparently angered by this.

"Hunh." Was Link's eloquent comment, and he looked away as well, watching the countryside roll by. In a day or so, the caravan would be far enough along in its journey for Link to slip off in the night, and make all due speed for the Plains region of Lon. Lon was an area of ranches, known for their quality horses.

He was oddly reluctant to leave the caravan – the company had turned out to be surprisingly good. Would he miss Dark and Keen?

Apparently there were many occurrences around the country which Link had not heard, cloistered in Hyrule Castle.

The mild winter had caused a population explosion in the Wolfos' numbers. To combat this, ridge-cats had been brought into the North for the first time ever.

A new kind of horse-powered water pump had been invented by a miner in Alberry, a mining town in the Mountain Province, which workers in southern Lake Hylia were now using to drain sections of the Vast Marshes in order to construct rice paddies in the cleared land.

In Rainfall Province, much of the banks of the upper Zora River had flooded, washing away some houses and beggaring several large farming communities.

Finally, and most surprising of all, in the fall an experimental citizen's council in Drought Country's Mudwater had formed under the supervision of the Duke Benyamin, to help rule the city. It had proved so successful and popular with the common people that the Duke had split his ruling power with it, freeing up his time considerably. They called this council a 'parliament' – from the word which meant 'to speak, to consult.' Duke Benyamin and his new board of publically elected officials were looking to expand the parliament's powers from governing the single city, to the entire province. Before the parliament's creation, only judges were elected by the people and appointed by the nobility. Duke Hylanis of Lake Hylia and Duke Fran of Imally had both expressed an interest in forming their own parliaments, provided the parliament in Mudwater continued to be successful.

Link was shocked he hadn't heard of this. Dark just rolled his eyes.

"They only believe what they want, the nobles in the Palace."

"That doesn't sound like something a loyal soldier would say," Link said, his eyebrows raised, and the blonde teen shrugged.

"I'm only here for Rick. It'll be all right, I guess. My clan wouldn't let me be anything else, besides."

"That reminds me," Link said, "I've told you both what my family is like – I'm curious about yours, please." Dark and Keen traded a long glance, and then Dark nodded slightly. Keen shrugged reluctantly, and then they both faced their charge.

"I'm an only child." Dark said.

"Which is unusual in Patcheem." Keen added.

"My clan is the Weaver clan. My bloodfather is Atusen, my heartfather is Alrick, my bloodmother Anamara, while my heartmother is Seyla. My heartmother is barren, and my parents thought my bloodmother was too, until they had me. There've been no children since, since they didn't wish to adopt." Dark leaned back, his part done.

"My family is the Gyrfalcon clan." Keen began. "My bloodmother is Giada, my heartfathers are Brom and Jakob. My heartmother is Anita. I have eight siblings – Orall, Klaral, Denan, Genrik, Dougal, and Marak are my brothers. Then there's me, then my sisters, Kylie and Kyri, who are twins. I do not use their clan name. I'm not worthy of it."

"Who's your bloodfather?" Link asked, picking up on the Patcheem lingo.

"Olon Quieso of Stonewall, may he rot." Keen said fiercely. "At least he'll never sire a child again."

"What?" Link wanted to know what that foreboding statement meant, but Keen refused to elaborate. Link sighed, then eyed the sun, trying to estimate the time by the sun's position, but it was obscured by a line of trees along the highway. "Does anyone know the time? My timepiece is in the bottom of the wagon."

Dark's lips pinched in concentration for a second, then eased, his face solemn and strangely, particularly familiar. Realization of whom Dark looked like suddenly struck Link.

"Dark – you look just like the Hero Thereo." Keen smiled slowly.

"Thrice Hero of the Cataclysm. I think so too."

"Uncannily like," Link added. "Could it be you're related?"

"Not a chance at all." Dark said firmly, "My bloodmother would never betray my parents like that."

"Thereo was said to have disappeared fifteen to thirteen years ago, Dark." Link persisted. "There's the possibility – you're fifteen, after all." Anger flashed in Dark's rust-brown eyes.

"Speak for yourself. My bloodmother's stayed inside Patcheem all her life. Patcheem would have known if Thereo had visited the town. No – there's no chance I'm illegitimate, thanks very much. You – we look the same, don't we? You have more of a chance of being his son than I, with your mysterious infancy." Dark ground his teeth, then deliberately, slowly smiled, the very image of the hero in his youth. "You wanted to know the time? It's fourteen-thirty six, pre-noon." Link stared.

"How did you know? You didn't look at anything!" Keen yawned expansively and stretched, then smiled lazily at the two blonde-haired boys.

"Everyone has a unique magical talent – besides me – and Dark's is knowing exactly what time it is, or how long something lasts."

"That's interesting. Huh!" Was Link's response.

"What's your talent, Link?" Dark asked.

"It has to do with music – I can remember any song, and my hearing's sharper than most."

Keen eyed the Gerudo with a speculative blue and gold gaze.

"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" He said softly, "I bet you play people like a musician plays an instrument."

"Exactly, Keen. Exactly like that." Link said breezily to mask his discomfort. For someone who possessed absolutely no magic at all, Keen was unnaturally perceptive…

It was nearly dark when Keen suggested Link play his ocarina to entertain the soldiers as they gathered around the bonfire they had built to drive the chill of the spring night away. The boys liked that idea, so when Link agreed, Noten caught the attention of the adult servicemen and soon a crowd gathered.

The meal that night was a stew made from reconstituted beef chunks, and a powdered mix to serve as a base for gravy. A few onions and tubers were brought out, sliced, and tossed in the pot, making a rather greasy, but satisfying meal, the stew eaten with hunks of tough bread. A handful of raisins was allotted to each trainee for dessert.

Stomachs sufficiently full, Link brought out his newest ocarina – for he'd found any magic he played on it was far more potent than an ordinary instrument.

Link began with a few jigs, then moved onto rowdy bar songs – the men who knew them and sang along enthusiastically. He played for a good hour, then transitioned carefully into lower-energy songs – love ballads, and lullabies. At last he reached the Song of the Setting Sun, subtly lacing magic into each note and rest, letting it flow to his listeners' ears. He wound down with a soothing waver, then bowed to the applause of the military audience. The fire was stamped out, and everyone settled into their bedrolls for the night.

The spell Link had created and cast ensured that those who had listened to the Song of the Setting Sun would sleep deeply until sunrise, with no awakenings in the night. He curled up in his bedroll, waiting patiently between Keen and Lawful for his former traveling companions to fall asleep.

At last the clearing was filled with heavy, rhythmic breathing and snores. Link steeled himself for his actions, then sat up and crawled out from under his blanket. He paused, listening. Then shook himself. Stupid. He'd cast the spell, after all. No one would wake. Link quickly rolled up his blanket and bedroll, then put them into his bottomless pack. He put on his shoes, slung his pack onto his back, and took a step towards the edge of the mass of sleeping soldiers.

An iron hand around his ankle stopped him from stepping further.

"Where, _exactly_, do you think you're going?" Keen asked coldly.

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Of Lon**

An iron hand around Link's ankle stopped him from taking a second step.

"Where, exactly, do you think you're going?" Keen asked coldly.

"To relieve myself." Link replied steadily, conjuring up a confused expression. Keen scowled and sat up, still gripping Link's foot.

"With your bedroll gone and pack ready? I don't think so." Rather than continuing his charade, Link brought his free foot up and stomped hard on the wrist attached to Keen's restricting hand. Keen let go with a hiss of pain, rolling quickly to his feet.

"I had forgotten that magic can't touch you," Link commented, drawing his sword and backing up slowly. "Stupid of me, really."

"You conniving little worm," Keen said furiously, "Why leave the caravan when we haven't even reached Mudwater? Unless you want to be declared as missing. Unless your true destination isn't Mudwater after all." Keen reached for the long knife under his bound-straw head-rest, but Link brought his blade out and around, touching the tip to Keen's chin.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." Link warned calmly, his hand and sword perfectly still. "I don't want to hurt you, but in the long run, it won't matter if you die so long as I achieve my goal."

"Southern scum."

"Now, now, _Cadet_ Ferrick Keen," Link chided, "Is that any way to treat Princess Zelda's messenger?"

"I'll believe it when I see it." Keen spat. Link simply held his right hand up, letting the Princess's ring on his thumb glitter in the pale blue moonlight of little Seles. Keen stared at it – he'd apparently seen the pictures of the legendary rings which the Royal Family gave out to those who were loyal, important servants, rings that granted assistance from any citizen of Hyrule who was loyal to the Crown.

"No one must know of my movements. Those were her exact words." Link lied. "Much is at stake, and I can't afford your knowledge of the truth."

"You are her servant?" Keen asked, wary and frozen, eyes wide.

"I am." Link confirmed.

"I don't believe it."

"Then disbelieve it."

"So you claim. What is the Princess like then?"

"I don't have time for this," Link grumbled, and Keen shook his head.

"Your spell should last all night if I'm right. What kind of Princess sends a boy of thirteen winters on a mission so secret no one must know?"

"A wise one, and cunning enough to recognize when no one else will believe her, and act accordingly. She has a lot in common with Duke Fran of Imally." Link ignored Keen's disapproving growl. "They both play the fool to hide their true nature. And they both care about the country's common good."

"Humph." Keen replied, and drooped subtly, like a living marionette with it's mental strings cut. "As a loyal subject, I must submit to the authority of the Crown, and let you go. You must command me to."

"Why?" Link wanted to know, "Why can't you just lie and say you slept with the others?"

"I must not. Magic doesn't affect me, anyway." Keen added petulantly, and Link frowned.

"That's not good enough. Why?"

Keen sneered at Link's dogged insistence.

"I am more like that wretch of a sire than I would like. I once regarded rules and courtesies as worthless things. I brought great grief to my clan, who kept my origins secret from me – when I discovered the truth, I vowed to never trouble them again. Therefore, I will never lie again. You must command me to let you go, Link, so that I can tell my captain the truth – that I had to obey the order of a noble. I will be punished, but less than if I had lied outright. Do you understand?"

"Honest to the bone, aren't you, Keen..." Link sighed, and Keen's ugly face hardened.

"It's a matter of principle."

"All right, fine." The Gerudo boy relented, "Ferrick Keen, as heir to the Dukedom of the Gerudo Province, I command you let me go, and tell no one my intentions or which direction I left."

"Yes, my lord." Keen said stiffly, and Link sighed.

"You're making me feel like a monster, Keen." He said ruefully, and Keen shrugged.

"You must do whatever the Princess commands. She will be Queen, one day."

"She will, won't she?" Link agreed, then pulled a small jar out of his pack. "Look – at least take this, for whatever wounds you get because of me." Keen took the paper packet Link offered him, and smiled ruefully.

"Magic potions, Link?"

"Not magic – that's a powdered preparation of willow bark. An effective painkiller."

"I see." The older boy tucked the packet into his pocket. "Go, Link. I won't delay you any longer."

"Goodbye, Ferrick Keen. Tell Dark goodbye for me."

"I'll try." Link nodded at Keen's response, lit his lightstone ring, and began walking, leaving the caravan camp behind.

Years ago, after Rabiyu had gifted Link with a compass, she had taught him orienteering – the art of traveling with nothing more than a map and a compass. He had gotten fairly good at it, but couldn't be completely confident he knew what he was doing – Rabiyu had died before he could complete his studies in the subject.

If he was where he thought he was, it would take a week's travel on foot to reach the broad area of the Plains Province known as Lon. Lon was not a city, but rather a community of about a dozen ranches, all fairly wealthy, and known for their fine Hylian-bred horses. Link planned on acquiring a horse, then making his way east across the Plains Province, through the northernmost tip of the Rainfall Province, to Kakariko in eastern Mountain Province.

Contrary to what everyone in the Palace thought, the Plains themselves were not perfectly flat expanses of grass. There were ridges, great rolling hills, even trees and tall shrubs, streams and rivers.

Link easily skirted the towns around Ryeton, stopping at a general store in the minute downtown of Haverall to pick up some fresh perishables. Horses were available in Haverall, but not the kind Link would need to last the rest of his journey.

Three day's journey from Lon, Link shot down a duck with his fine new bow. Roasted on a magic-powered cooking stone, the mallard made fine, if gamey eating.

He was quite hungry when he made it to the small outpost that lay on the border of the Lon region. He entered the largest tavern and ordered a large meal – then asked the innkeeper as a satisfied patron, having bought the man's generosity - where in the area could he find a ranch with good horses, ones with plenty of stamina, but not too dearly priced? He was steered to the somewhat shabby Long Lon Ranch, on the easternmost side of Lon.

Back on the road to Mudwater, Ferrick Keen laid down on a pallet as Dark of the Weaver clan carefully tended to Keen's wounds from the thorough flogging he'd received a week ago, as he did now every morning. It was something he'd grown used to over the years – doing his best to heal a young man who couldn't be treated by any kind of healing magic. This time had been bad – the captain knew Rick couldn't handle much, so he'd made every blow count – gotten a little too enthusiastic, Dark thought darkly, dried-blood eyes narrowing. He'd sewn up a laceration that went a little too deep and would definitely scar, cleaned and bandaged the rest as best he could. Of course, Rick was expected to perform all his duties as usual, never mind his whipping. Dark had begged a flask of moonshine off one of the adult soldiers to clean his bond-mate's wounds, with the promise to take up a few of the soldier's duties in return for the booze.

It was a hard life. Dark didn't particularly enjoy it – not the rules nor the apparently endless need for uniform perfection. But Rick's dreams were greater than Dark's insubstantial fantasies. And Rick would never leave this life – he dreamt of working his way up the ranks, _proving_himself to everyone who looked down upon him, proving that he could be great.

So Dark looked after his pair-bond's hurts, supported him as best he could, and dreamed of a life far away, somewhere no one knew them, and didn't care that Rick was a magical reject, or of the monster inside Dark, the one he kept locked up and hidden where no one could see.

Link stood warily in the faded entrance to the Long Lon Ranch, eying the set of greyed and dirty wooden buildings that formed the ranch. Was this place truly the right place to search for a steed? The ranch was large, but clearly it had seen better days. He shrugged to himself. There was nothing to do but find out.

He rapped on the wooden door of the main house, shuffling his boots self-consciously. Would the ranch owners even take him seriously as a customer? Mature or not, Link was only thirteen, and dressed in muddy, sturdy clothing, his hair greasy and his body dirty from going without a bath for two weeks.

He waited. No response. He knocked again, this time more insistently. Link's sharp ears heard approaching footsteps inside, and then the door opened. A tall, skinny man with bristling brown hair peered out.

"Yes, young man?" He inquired in a nasal voice.

"Are you the owner of the Long Lon Ranch?" Link asked, and the man sighed.

"If_only…_" He muttered, then seemed to mentally shake himself, regarding Link with interest. "No. The ranch belongs to Talon Longheart, my brother. What do you need, lad?"

"I would like to speak to your brother, please, sir."

"He is indisposed at the moment. Are you a farmhand at some other… no, those aren't Plains clothes…" The man tsked to himself, "Are you a customer? Long Lon Ranch has a fine dairy business, but we no longer produce any dairy products besides milk these days."

"Actually, I'm looking to buy a horse. I was told the ranch has fine horses, ones with stamina."

"You have the money?" The brunette man asked doubtfully, and named a figure. Link smiled, and named a higher number – not all he had on him, but more than enough for any horse. The man finally smiled, and opened the door further. "Come in then, lad. I haven't introduced myself properly, have I? I am Ingo Longheart, farmhand on this ranch."

"I'm Link Forrester." Link said, his new surname thought up a week ago. It wouldn't do to spread his real name everywhere, allowing others to track his movements. Link was a common enough name, and the family name Forrester was common in Imally, especially along settlements on the edge of the Lost Woods, where it was a mark of pride to take a forest-related surname.

"From Imally, eh?" Ingo said, "You don't have an accent…"

"My father was an educated man – a wealthy merchant."

"Then where is he, may I ask?"

"My entire family's dead, from bandits and the forest disease." Link lied dully, as if he'd said it enough times to no longer be affected by the actual truth behind the phrases. "My uncle says he'll take me in, but he lives in Arryn and I've had to take several wagons North. The last one got me as far as Arrant, but no further. Money is no problem, and I think having my own horse would be more reliable than the random kindnesses of others."

"You do not seem saddened." Ingo remarked. The boy let himself shrug jerkily.

"It's been months since they left me. We had an unusually small family for Imally, just me, my parents, and my sister. Besides," and here Link let himself smile, slow and bloodthirsty, "I've blooded justice – my family's spirits will rest avenged." Ingo's eyes widened.

"But you're a boy! My niece is your age, you're nowhere near old enough to claim justice…" He said, alarmed. Link shrugged.

"I'm Imally-bred. We're tough." He replied simply. "Now, I was told that I must deal directly with ranch owners if I wish to purchase a good steed. Where is your brother? You said he was indisposed, where is he, and when will he return?"

"He is in the house."

"Then why is he indisposed?" Ingo ground his teeth at the question.

"He is sleeping."

Link blinked, startled. "But it's fifteen in the afternoon! Why would he not be up?"

"On account of too much drink, Link Forrester." Ingo said flatly. "He'll be up eventually. But right now, you look tired and worn. As you plan to buy one of our finest mounts, I don't see why you should return to the inn – it's miles away. You can stay here, if you wish. My niece would be happy to have company her own age."

"Thank you, Master Ingo." Link said gratefully, "I don't mean to inconvenience you, but do you know when I might take a bath? I haven't had one in ages." Ingo smirked.

"An Imally boy wants a bath? Unheard of."

Link made himself scowl. "That's only a rumor. We bathe just like anyone else." Ingo twirled one end of his mustache around a bony finger, his face contemplative.

"I tell you what, Master Link, I'll see that you get a discounted price if you help me around the ranch for two weeks." Ingo said, rubbing his hands together. Link cocked his head to the side.

"What would that include?"

"Mucking out the stables, feeding the livestock, gathering eggs from the Cuccoos, chopping firewood, grooming the horses, keeping the house clean, and hauling water." Ingo said, ticking the chores off on his fingers. "During this time you may also ride the horses all you so please, to get a good feel for which ones you might like." Link thought about that, then spat on his hand and held it out, as was common in the Plains, but also in Imally.

"I can do that. You have a deal." Ingo took Link's hand, and they shook on it.

"Come in, Master Link – it's almost time for lunch." Ingo opened the door and they went inside. The house was modest but clean – made entirely of wood. The floor was neat wooden boards. The furniture was sturdy and well-loved, rough wall hangings decorated whitewashed walls.

"Mister Ingo, is that you?" A girl's bright voice asked from the direction of the kitchen, her voice higher and squeakier than Zelda's soft, silky low tones. "Can you wake up Daddy for me? It's time for Second Worship."

"I have a visitor, Miss Malon." Ingo said, locking the front door. A girl with bright red hair exited the kitchen, carrying three folded prayer rugs in her arms. A copious smattering of brown freckles speckled her face and arms. She took in Link's presence with wide eyes – a light sky blue. "This is Link Forrester, a customer."

"Nice to meet you, sir!" She squeaked, her face flushing as she noticed how handsome Link was. Link dipped a bow to her – it was a very Imally-like gesture. His friendship with Fran had been more helpful than the man had known.

"I'll be staying for about a week, Miss Malon." He informed her, "Long enough to get a good feel for all the horses."

"Can I help?" She asked eagerly, and he shrugged and made himself smile.

"I'd like that." A wooden clock on the wall chimed sixteen times, and Ingo sighed.

"I'll go wake your father, Miss Malon." He said, sneering a little, and climbed the rough stairs that led to the second floor, taking a prayer rug with him. From upstairs came the urgent sound of Ingo's voice, and a deeper man's voice grunting, then complaining quietly. Link's sharp ears heard it all – Ingo scolding and coaxing the owner of the Long Lon Ranch to _get out of bed now, my dear little brother, or you'll offend the Goddesses and we'll lose all our business, and if that happens, even you won't be able to sleep all day…_

The clock chimed, this time with a deeper ring, and Link and Malon spread the other two out on the floorboards, dropping to their knees and prostrating themselves on the rugs. Link pressed his forehead to his hands, pressing his hands to the rug, letting his breathing fall in the pattern he'd learned. As he breathed, he forced himself to think of something – anything to negate what should be a form of worship without thought – and settled upon the unruly complaint that _I don't mean any of it, and it's a ridiculous way to pray, anyways…_

After Midwinter, Link and Zelda had planned at a lot of things. He would have to masquerade as a normal Hylian boy, not Gerudo nobility. So Zelda had carefully taught him the proper way to breathe, how to fold himself into the prostrate position used during praying, until he could do it as easily as if he'd done it all his life. And if he didn't mean any of it, Zelda didn't seem to mind.

After ten minutes of prayer, the Longheart's clock chimed twice, signifying the end of Second Worship. The two teens unfolded themselves, and rolled the prayer rugs up. Link handed the one he'd used to Malon with a word of thanks. She got up and put them away on a wooden shelf. Descending footsteps made Link look up. A large, rumpled obese man in straining denim overalls went down the steps, heavily.

Link put on a smile, and stepped forward to introduce himself.

"You must be Master Talon Longheart, am I right?" The man blinked sluggishly.

"Yes, m'boy, I am."

"I'm looking for a horse, and I was steered around to your ranch. Now, what-"

"It's time for lunch!" Malon announced, and Link scowled mentally at the interruption. He'd hoped to charm the man straight away "You menfolk can talk your business after everyone's been fed and watered." Ingo sighed, and the four elves sat themselves down at the kitchen table.

Malon brought out bread, butter, cheese, cold slices of chicken meat, and a mixture of beans and onions. Link would have liked to make an open-faced sandwich of the ingredients, as they did in the North, but had to stay true to his false background. Instead, he made a cheese-and-chicken sandwich and ate the beans on their own, while Malon, Ingo, and Talon ate their bread with butter, had the chicken on its own, and mixed the beans with the cheese. Malon drank milk, as did Link, while the men had beer. Ingo would have let Link drink the fermented beverage as well, but Talon guffawed and said Link wasn't nearly that old, despite being a customer. Link let himself pout – there was no drinking age in Imally as there was in the North.

Link kept up an amiable silence throughout much of the meal, observing the family and their mannerisms. Talon seemed jovial and hearty, Ingo cold and detached. Malon interrupted without pause, and her few words to Link were treacle-sweet, in contrast to her bossy tones to her male relatives. Link puzzled over why Ingo was so polite and deferential to Talon and Malon – always calling them 'Master Talon' and 'Miss Malon' – when they themselves treated him quite casually. And why was Talon owner of the ranch if Ingo was the elder brother? It would be foolish to ask why at the moment, so Link kept his thoughts to himself and his Imally-bred façade up.

After the meal was done, Malon cleaned up, while Ingo let Link set his possessions in the older man's bedroom. Talon went off to 'manage the books,' while Link and Ingo set about to feeding the cattle.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Of Dissonant Melodies**

Link got his bath after all, two days into his time at the Long Lon Ranch. He and Ingo hauled water from the well to a tin tub in the washroom. A few drops of Ingo's blood in the tub's blood receptacle heated the water up quickly. Malon was given the first go, and she washed and soaked in the bath for a good hour, to the men's displeasure. Talon took the next bath at the vehement prodding of Ingo, and fouled the water so much the tub had to be drained, washed, and refilled from the well once more. Again, more blood was offered to the tub's heating spells, and Ingo allowed Link to wash first. The boy scrubbed quickly with a lumpen bar of rough soap, then washed his greasy hair twice to ensure it was clean enough for his standards, missing the fine soaps and perfectly hot water of the Palace. He let himself soak for about ten minutes, before climbing out and drying off. Ingo was gruffly thankful that there was hot water left over for him – magic tub or not, he didn't want to use more blood that day.

The mornings at Long Lon Ranch were early and busy, the afternoons increasingly warmer. The nights were filled with music, to Link's delight. Malon had a lovely, if breathy voice, and Ingo was fairly good on the fiddle. Each evening Talon listened quietly with a mug of beer or cider, and retired to bed before the music was over. The large man woke in the late afternoon, spent the rest of the day training horses, eating, and playing cards with his older brother.

Every morning Link ate a quick meal of oatmeal and yogurt, then helped Malon and Ingo collect the chicken eggs, milk the cattle, then feed and water the livestock. After Second Worship they ate lunch, usually consisting of bread, spiced beef sausage and cheese. Malon, Link, and Ingo spent an hour or so after lunch familiarizing Link with the horses.

Malon's favorite was a finely muscled three-year old mare, tall and fiery, by the name of Epona. She was almost doggishly devoted to the girl, but Link soon found she was fond of music, and would let him groom her if he whistled the lullaby Malon had sung to her since she was a filly.

Noticing Link's increasing fondness for the mare, Ingo took Link aside.

"You're thinking of buying Epona, aren't you, boy?" The lanky man queried, raising a bushy eyebrow.

"Yeah." Link confirmed, and Ingo shook his head roughly.

"I wouldn't." Link frowned at that, confused.

"Why not? She's got great stamina and speed."

"Ay, she does. But she's also skittish and like as not to run away from you as obey you. She's been spoiled by Miss Malon and Master Talon since she was foaled. Her performance is incredible, but erratic. Think, boy. What would she be like against a monster or bandit on the road? She doesn't take well to stalls – there aren't many ranches in Arryn, and you'd never get her in a stall in Waysken. She'd hurt herself." Ingo said firmly in his nasal voice.

"You're sure of that." Link said flatly, and the man nodded.

"Epona is a fine piece of horseflesh, and she'd cost you dearly. You're a good lad, Link. And she's worth less than she costs, unless you plan to breed her. As a riding horse now, she's useless."

"You plan to breed her then?" The lanky man shrugged.

"I've always dreamed of being a breeder. If I could find a calm, steady stallion to knock her up, the foals could really be something." Ingo's tone was wistful. Link sighed. Ingo was a fair man, he'd come to know.

"Why don't you work for some other man than Master Talon, then, instead of never being let to take charge?"

"I couldn't leave this place, not ever." Ingo said with a bitter smile, his mustache quirking up. "I was set to inherit the ranch, in my youth. But first I wanted to travel, to see the world. Our parents understood – I was the hard worker, the one who would make this place even greater than it already was. They sent me off with a full purse and all their blessings. Talon and I have always had our weaknesses – for him it is drinking and sleeping, for me it was the dice. I gambled away all my money and wages in Riverside. I was too poor to even return to the Plains Province, so I sought the help of a wise woman, who helped rid me of my need for games and cards and stakes. Then I worked for years to erase my debt. When I had enough to return home, I did so, penniless. My parents were old by then, and when they heard what I had done, they disowned me. And so Master Talon became the master of Long Lon Ranch. Miss Malon won't consider me her uncle – my brother has poisoned her against me." Ingo sighed, looking at the blue, blue sky, smiling sadly. "I could have made this place great. If I had my way I'd hire a few hands to help on the ranch, to make cheese and butter out of the milk we produce. With the money from that I'd buy a few good horses from the Gerudo Province, and improve our stock. Long Lon Ranch could be the best producer of steeds in all of Lon. No – the best in the Province. My heart has never been in dairy, anyways."

"Well, I don't know much about horses, aside from riding them," Link commented, fully in his Imally-bred persona, "But even I've heard Gerudo horses are good." Link wanted to help Ingo, really he did. He wanted to tell the man about Reya, about the swiftness of hooves on desert sand, of the strong arched necks and delicate heads and legs of his people's horses. Wanted to give Ingo a way to speak to the Gerudo, to make his dreams come true for the kindness the snarky man had shown a boy of supposedly Imally birth. But no, there were secrets to be kept, and ultimately the mission was more important than one man's smashed dreams, Link thought with regret. So he stretched indolently, reached up to pick straw from his similarly colored hair, and asked instead:

"Anyway, if you don't recommend Epona, which horse would you choose for me?"

"Deste would be best, I think. He's nice and steady, in both stamina and temperament."

"Deste? The uh, the dappled grey gelding?"

"That's the one. You can ride him tomorrow, after lunch."

"All right."

That evening they fixed the more shoddy stretches of fencing until it was dark. Ingo and Link washed of the dirt and dust as best they could with a bucket of water and a rag before coming in for supper, the fourth meal of the day. Supper that night was roast chicken, with potato dumplings, mashed vegetables, and lots of floury gravy. It couldn't compare to the kitchens of the Fortress or Palace, but the meals Malon cooked were better than hard biscuits and jerky. It sufficed.

Ingo left to speak with Talon outside, while Link helped Malon clean up after Third Worship. She looked over at him as she scrubbed dishes, then bit her lip and looked away shyly. Link cocked an eyebrow, continuing to dry the wet dishes and utensils.

"Was there something you wanted to say?" He said aloud. She blinked in surprise.

"What?" Malon asked, taken aback.

"You keep looking at me. So I was wondering why." Malon sighed at that, and dropped her soft blue gaze to the floor, absently toying with a lock of auburn hair with sudsy fingers.

"Do you really have to go to Arryn?"

"Why?" Link wondered, a dreaded realization creeping up on him. Come on – he'd only been here for eight days! Why was this always happening to him?

"I was thinking… I thought you could stay here, with Daddy, Mister Ingo and me." Link's heart lurched. So he'd been correct.

"My only family is in Waysken. How else am I supposed to make a living when I'm grown, without family backing me? Besides, my uncle said he'd take me…"

"Forget about your uncle!" Malon said hotly, a flush racing to her cheeks. "You said yourself you barely know him. We like you here. You can help Mister Ingo do the chores, and Daddy can teach you to do the books and train the horses. Maybe you can even knock away those stupid ideas Ingo has about Gerudo horses and their superiority – they're as diseased as their breeders."

"Well, what if I want to be a bard?" Link returned quietly, ignoring the sting at the casual way she slurred his people, "There's no training in that to be found in Lon."

"You don't need to learn anything more, you're already good." Malon insisted, "I know you like music a lot, but you can play in the evenings with Mister Ingo. My voice is really good, so we can sing together whenever we want…"

"What if that's not enough?" Link returned, his mind churning with the effort to fend her clinging hopes away, "What if I get sick of the plains? I like forests better."

"That's stupid. On the Plains you can see for miles around. Everyone likes that!"

"No, Malon." He said a bit harshly, "I don't want that life. We're different people, and I don't want to live here much longer. Look, you're a nice girl, but I'm thirteen – I'm too young for love and that stuff. 'Live free' and all."

"But-!" Her entire face was turning red.

"I said no." Her eyes narrowed, spilling over with tears, and then she took the plate she'd been cleaning, and hurled it at his head. He ducked aside, reflexes kicking in, and the plate shattered itself against a wooden beam that held up the wall. Malon wiped at her tears angrily, and stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room, slamming the door loudly.

Ingo stuck his head into the kitchen.

"What was that?" He demanded, and Link bent to gather up the shattered bits of ceramic.

"I don't want to marry Malon. So I said so, and she threw a plate at me. That's what." The boy said ruefully. Ingo grinned.

"I don't blame you, boy. She's always had a temper, and Master Talon certainly don't discourage it."

"I suppose. Do you think this will cause any trouble tomorrow when I purchase Deste?"

"They can't force you to stay, and we do need the business. I'll do my best." Ingo said, and Link smiled at the man.

"Thank you, Master Ingo."

The skinny man with bristling brown hair shrugged brusquely.

"You've been a great help to me, boy, I need no thanks. Tomorrow morning will be here sooner than you'd think, with the days getting longer. So we'd better rest up now while the sun's still down."

Link knew an order when he heard one.

"Yes sir." They padded quietly upstairs, to Ingo's bedroom. Ingo took the bed, Link burrowed into his bedroll on the floor.

Link was used to reading before bed, but apparently the Longhearts didn't, so he simply laid in the dark stillness of an unlit bedroom, listening to the nightsingers' caroling coos and trills that echoed through the night. Link watched their shadows fly before the distant faces of the moons in intricately swirling swarms before finally closing his eyes, and giving himself up to sleep.

Morning dawned bright and early at eight. Link was awoken not by the Fortress bugle, nor the Palace bells, but instead by the raucous shrilling of the Long Lon Ranch's resident flock of dawngreeters, birds that welcomed the rising sun with piercing cries. It was, hopefully, the last day of Link's stay at the Ranch.

The dawngreeters shrieked once more, then burst into noisy, gossipy chatter. Ingo heaved himself out of bed with a groan. Link followed after him. Stretching and yawning, he stripped out of his night clothes and pulled a new day's outfit out of his rupee-studded pack.

Ingo and Link ate a quick morning meal of sausage and stewed tomatoes, washing it down with hot tea. Link felt somewhat guilty about eating meat at breakfast, but stayed firmly in his role as a non-Gerudo Southerner. They fed and watered the livestock, mucked out the stables, collected the eggs, and milked the cows, much as they had done for the past nine days.

More yards of fencing was repaired. Link and Ingo chatted easily now, speaking of the Imally Province.

"…And the Lost Woods itself is this huge mass of trees, and the ones on the edge of the forest have black trunks – something about the reaction to outside air or something. At night lights come from the paths inside, little will-o-wisps that get you lost until the forest takes you for its own. If you live in settlements on the frontier where they clear the forest for grazing or planting land, you have to wear special cloths over your face so you don't breathe in the poisonous fumes." Link said, borrowing Sir Fran's words to describe his fictional home. "The birds there are different, too. There are great hawks called Rocs, with wingspans twice as long as a large man is tall, so large they can carry off a child or a sheep. My favorites, though, are the brightingales."

"Brightingales?" Ingo wondered,

"Yeah, they're much like your Plain's nightingales, only brightly colored – with a purple head, green body, and a deep blue chest."

"They sound beautiful."

"Yes," Link sighed in false wistfulness, "But their songs are even more so."

In this way they wiled away the late morning repairing the peeling fences, until Talon rose for Second Worship and lunch. Malon was unusually quiet as she served the men salted fish and leftover potato dumplings with a brown sauce called _malka_.

"Well, m'boy," Talon began after he'd taken a long pull of ale, "Your time with us is up. Have you chosen which horse you'd like to purchase?"

"I've settled on Deste, Master Longheart." Link said, his tone polite.

"A fine horse, him. Are you sure you don't want to stay? My Malon is mighty fond of you, and you've proved you're a hard worker." Malon blushed prettily at that, turquoise gaze clinging to the young teen. "Why, there might even be a betrothal in the future, maybe. Who could say no to that?" Ingo winced and Link growled internally, but kept his face polite and earnest.

"You've been very hospitable, Master Longheart, but I fear I've stayed long enough. I need my family now, and it would insult my uncle, who has already begun making preparations for my arrival. I like Deste, and I'm sure he'll easily bear me to Waysken." Malon and Talon's faces fell. Talon gave a great, heavy sigh, smoothing his bushy mustache with plump fingers.

"Then let's get to it, then." He said, his voice losing its false heartiness and taking on a rather whining tone, similar to Ingo's. Talon named an outrageous price, which Link countered with a much lower but not insulting offer. They haggled back and forth, Talon trying to raise the price above his first offer, and the Gerudo boy was grateful he'd already purchased the necessary tack from Ingo days earlier, which the ranch hand _was_ allowed to sell, at least. Who knew what the price of Deste might be if Talon Longheart hadn't been selling more than one thing at once?

Talon seemed intent on cheating Link, so Link pulled out what the Gerudos called 'the hidden blade' when it came to dickering – a plea for mercy.

"Be generous, Master Longheart – I've been working hard on the Long Lon Ranch for two weeks now." He pleaded softly, and Talon waved it off.

"That was earning your keep, m'boy." Link ground his teeth.

_I am_not _your boy!_ He thought fiercely, but his face was placid on the outside.

"Then for the sake of our friendship, sir, for I need enough money to reach Waysken. Someday in the future I might wish to visit you and Miss Malon, but if I pay your unusually high price, at this rate I'll be forced to take my business somewhere else – somewhere that does not ignore ten day's labor as a mere courtesy." Malon gasped softly, and touched her father's elbow.

"If it's such a trial to pay, why not simply stay and have no need of a horse of your own?"

"Greed is not a virtue, Master Talon." Ingo said, and Talon frowned slowly.

"Neither is gambling, Ingo. Why don't you check on the horses? Only those things concern you." Ingo flushed with rage and shame as he turned on his heel to storm out the door.

"Doesn't concern me? _I'll 'concern' you…!_" He fumed under his breath, slamming the door behind him hard enough to shake loose a layer of dust from between the boards of the ceiling. Malon's eyes were wide.

At last Link and Talon Longheart hammered out a deal – and Link came out ahead only by the skin of his teeth. He insisted on signing the contract right then and there, blood stains and all, so the greedy ranch owner couldn't renege on the deal.

Link declined Talon's offer to see him off – he gathered up his things in Ingo's room, and headed for the stables. Ingo was waiting for him there, Deste already saddled and bridled in pale leather tack. Deste whuffled softly as Link rubbed his forehead and neck gently, pushing his head against the boy's shoulder. Link fastened his pack to the back of the saddle with the proper fastenings provided.

The boy led his new gelding out of the stable, and let Ingo give him a leg up into the stirrup, then swung his other leg over the saddle, settling into the correct seated posture.

"You should get out, Master Ingo." He murmured quietly, "They don't appreciate you."

"It's a matter of family pride, boy." Ingo said, repeating his words from many days ago.

"Very well." Link replied, backing down. "I hope you do well." With a bang, Malon burst out of the house, running straight for the Gerudo boy and his steed before Ingo could reply.

"Don't go!" She shouted, tears streaming down freckled cheeks, "Please, Link! I'll do anything, just please, don't leave!" Talon Longheart, Master of Long Lon Ranch watched from the door.

"Say whatever you want, Miss Malon," Link said stiffly, enjoying the flinch he received from her, "You belittled my family, your father did his best to cheat me despite my days of labor on his behalf. You don't even treat your only uncle with a bit of kindness. Why _wouldn't_ I want to leave?"

"I didn't mean it!" She pleaded.

"Life is not a drama, or some fairytale! And anyways - bah, I don't care anymore. I'm _leaving._ A good day to you, Master Ingo, Master Talon, Miss Malon." He nudged Deste's speckled grey flanks, and the horse broke into a trot.

Link didn't look back as he left the Ranch, stonily gazing forward. When he was a mile or so away, and the buildings of the Ranch were small, he looked back only once, then smiled to be free what had, increasingly, felt like a trap.

He felt strangely liberated, from Talon Longheart's sloth, from Ingo's self-imposed prison, from Malon's stubborn naïveté.

_He was no one's prince charming._

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Of Grassbow**

"Warm wind blowing over the earth  
Sky blue  
I sing through the land, the land sings through me  
Sky blue  
Reaching into the deepest shade of  
Sky blue

Sky blue  
So tired of all this travelling  
So many miles away from home  
I keep moving to be stable  
Free to wander, free to roam"

(Sky Blue ~ Peter Gabriel)

Link was quickly grateful for his decision to buy Deste – for all too soon the scrub and prairie of the Plains turned into steep, featureless grassland. He and his horse were climbing the massive, grassy ridge that marked the highest point of the Central Hyrulean Plains. Link and Deste struggled up the rocky path to the flat surface of the verdant mesa's top, and gasped when he saw Grassbow looming at the edge of the horizon.

The city itself was a blocky mass of red-brown buildings, nothing special, except for the towering windmills that topped every single block, slowly turning with the strong wind that blew over the long mesa. The sails of the windmills varied in size, shape, and color, but most were white rectangles, four sails to each tower. It was breath-taking.

As he grew closer, Link could hear the grinding groan of the sails turning over the sound of the wind singing through the tall golden grass. Grassbow was contained by four walls, a wind tower in each corner of the square barrier. He got in line to enter the city, avoiding the gaze of the gatekeepers by mingling himself into a train of farmer's carts.

The streets of Grassbow weren't as crowded as Mudwater's had been. Nothing, of course, could compare to the bustle of the Capitol. Mud bricks seemed to be the local choice for building material – there were few stone quarries in the Plains, and trees were completely absent from the mesa tablelands near and around Grassbow. What little wood was available was reserved for the sails of the windmills. Within Grassbow, were some of the largest mills in all Hyrule. Much of the Plain's grain was ground in this city, almost entirely by wind power.

Link idly found his way to a few supply shops, where he replenished his stock of water-purifying powder, arrow-fletchings, hard biscuits, and dried fruit. Around Second Worship the crowd faded to a few dregs of unbelievers. As the bells of the local cathedral began to ring, Link found a clean space in a courtyard set aside for stall keepers and travelers, and prostrated himself on the swept rock bricks, slowly counting the seconds until the ending bell rang, so as not to truly pray. The cathedral rang the end of the prayer, and daily life resumed.

Link enjoyed a tomato and cheese melted sandwich for lunch, followed by a skewer of grilled sour chicken from a vendor. A cheap mug of tea satisfied his need for a pick-me-up, and then he went around the city looking for a good tavern to stay the night at. He found one a few streets down from the traveler's prayer square, by the name of the _Fat Pony_. With those reservations made, and Deste properly stabled and fed, he explored the city looking for some kind of entertainment to last until nightfall.

Entertainment came in the form of a crowd around the mouth of a theatre. Intrigued, Link let himself be drawn in. Large posters were pasted to the walls outside the small theatre, declaring –

Milltown Theatre!

featuring

Willam Firstman:

actor

storyteller

genius extraordinaire!

To be followed by a jig from the performers the Wheat Uppers.

That seemed a bit much for a two-bit player, thought Link, but he paid the twenty rupee entrance fee, then a second, ten-rupee charge so he could actually sit on a chair rather than stand on the ground amongst the groundlings – who, he had heard, were a rather rowdy crowd.

Those same groundlings were getting impatient and more and more loud, when a brightly clad man strode onto the narrow, warped stage.

"_Belay it all, be quiet, you culture-less, incoherent imbeciles!_" He roared, and the packed theatre went silent. "Silence is needed now, my friends. Silence." The actor said silkily, "Only with silence, can you hear the stars sing, hear the whispers of the world under your feet. Only with _silence_, my good people, can you hear the story that I, Willam Firstman, will tell to you now."

Here the supposed Willam Firstman bowed to the crowd, with an articulate flourish of his feather hat. "Few have not heard of me – when the Goddesses first created the world, I was the first mortal to walk its ground, to sample its many delights. Only once I proved myself did they create more. When I had a son, I passed my name down to him. My father was Willam Firstman, just as I am, as my son is as well. I am one of many, all, and alone. Mine is an old tradition, an old craft. So do not fear – my words are true.

"Today, I tell the tale of King Harkinian the Great! The first Hyrulean King, the builder of our mighty country."

A thousand years ago, a son was born to the Hylian king Handen, who ruled the mountain reaches north of Arryn. The babe was no firstborn son – no, he was the second child of king Handen's third wife, the fifth son to bear the king's blood. Those were ancient days, when many men wed multiple wives, if they could afford it. The old king named his son Harkinian, and bestowed upon him the title of baron and the inheritance of Hag's Peak Valley, a land of high, hanging valleys and tarns. So young Harkinian spent his childhood in the castle in Hightop Valley, the center of Handen's mountain kingdom. He was a bright lad, quick with the sword and sharp-eyed with the bow. Oh, how his mother Gedasa loved him! Harkinian was raised in the manner of the mountain elves – strictly in tune with nature – in ways we Hylians have long lost to generations of flatlanders, but for those hoary tribes still roaming the Curled Backbones. Imagine! A whole way of life lost to the descendants of those who dared climb down from the cloud and rock of the heights!

Pale-haired, Harkinian was, hair as pale as raw silk, and dark-eyed enough to see no difference between pupil and iris. Many a warrior was unnerved by those unfathomable eyes! Unusually tall and broad shouldered, he was, a giant of a man.

He took over the ruling-seat of Hag's Peak when he reached his majority at sixteen, but the valley was nothing but rock, clinging shrubs, and the huts of the valley people he ruled. Bitter and dry was the wind that blew through those perilous heights, and empty were the bellies of the serfs in even the best of times. In the lean times even Harkinian hunted in the wilds for a goat or sheep to grace his table at suppertime. He went up to the shrine on Hag's Peak, to a soothsayer to find if this was what his life was to be, and the old man – a venerable hermit, told him to accept his lot in life, to find a wife and settle down and live among the rocks of the gravelly mountain pass through which no travelers no longer journeyed.

So young Harkinian bowed his head at the man's wisdom, walking down the mountain slowly, his future weighing heavily on his shoulders. As he went down towards the valley, a wind blew the clouds away from between the teeth of the mountains, and Harkinian saw the green and browns of the flatlands, stretching out for miles. Those rich colors entranced the young baron, who was so used to the blues and greys of the shade in the mountain passes.

He hungered for that land, with its rich possibilities, and made his mind up there and then. He would not accept his lot in life, he would not find a woman of the mountains to marry. He would not settle down.

So he returned to Hag's Peak Valley, and mustered everyone who would go to the flatlands. He left a deputy to rule in his place. When the snow had finally melted in the high passes, Harkinian and his subjects climbed down from the mountains, heading south.

They climbed down, and down, and down. Finally, at the base of the mountains, they made camp and spent the night there. This place they named Flatland, just as it is known as now. The party of fifty made their way to the banks of the Zora River, where they were able to live off the land far easier than they had in the mountains. It finally dawned upon Harkinian's subjects that this was their new home – and they began to build a settlement, naming it Riversbank.

But the flatlands were not entirely unoccupied – the mountain people had wandered into the territory of the Fire Birds, a Sheikah tribe. At first it seemed that the Fire Birds might wage war on the growing little settlement, but Harkinian managed to parlay his way to the leader of the tribe - Halkan. A wager was struck – if Harkinian could defeat the strongest warrior in the Fire Birds, the mountain elves could stay in Riversbank, so long as they sent warriors to fight with the tribe when war came around. Harkinian agreed, fought, and won with ease.

Harkinian was not happy merely joining the tribe. He wanted to run the tribe itself. With Halkan growing older, Harkinian began to woo the stern, steel-haired Ganhala, daughter of the tribe leader. She spurned him, saying he was not warrior enough for her. He began to bring her game, flowers from the river, carved ivory jewelry. Ganhala again asked him why he was bothering her so. When he protested his love to her, his strength, she bid him to build her a war lodge, finer than those of the Fire Birds. He agreed, and built a lodge from dogwood and willow. But still Ganhala would not submit. She told Harkinian to lead a war party and defeat the Sick Wolves, the Ten Hand's neighbor and enemy, and take over their territory. So he gathered together a party of both tribesmen and his own warriors and waged war on the Sick Wolves until they pled for mercy and willingly joined the Fire Birds.

Ganhala was waiting for Harkinian when he returned. Again he asked for her hand. Again she refused! Thank the Goddesses women these days know their place! But in those days, the Sheikah valued women just as much as their men.

Harkinian asked what he must do next, and she told him he must go into the forest, and find the great tree held sacred by Farore, clearly marked by the feather tassels that decorated it, and make a sacrifice of a young goat, burnt on the rock below the great roots, as a holocaust to the patron Goddess of the Sheikah. Harkinian chose a firstborn kid, and led it into the forest. Between the man and the tree ran a deep stream. Harkinian swam halfway across the wide, fat creek when a whirlpool formed close to where he floated. In his haste to get away, he let go of the rope connected to the goat sacrifice, and the animal was sucked in. Harkinian managed to escape, but his sacrifice was lost. He did not know that that whirlpool was sacred to the Goddess Nayru. Thus, instead of earning Farore's favor, he won the interest of Nayru the Blue. With his sacrifice gone, he took his bow and shot down a hind to replace the kid he had lost in the stream, and burnt it at the rock Ganhala had described. Then he returned to Riversbank to speak to Ganhala once more.

"When," Harkinian said to her, "Will all I have done for you be enough? I have fought for you, built the lodge you live in, hunted for you, and burnt sacrifices to your patron Goddess. I will not wait any longer."

"Cross the river and make peace with the Ten Hands, my uncle's tribe, and I will be satisfied." Ganhala said, so off Harkinian went to parlay with the Ten Hands, his war party following him. When that was over, he saw that the land the Ten Hands lived in was even richer than that of the Fire Birds, and determined to take it for his own one day. Rather than return right away, he ventured east beyond the lands of the Ten Hands, into the land around present-day Stonewall. He and his men walked beyond the foothills, and saw the vast green and gold expanse of the Plains. From where he stood, Harkinian could see a mighty foothill rising above all the others, so large the Zora River curled around it rather than carve through it.

Now, Harkinian liked his life in the flatlands. Life was better, hunting easier, the climes warmer and more temperate. But he was mountain-bred, and still attributed safety to high ground. He desired that steep-sloped hill as much as he had the flatlands, but knew that now was not the time to take it for himself. Instead, he returned victorious to Ganhala once more.

She was waiting for him on the mountain's side of the river, clad in bridal yellow, Sheikah colors. Harkinian crossed the river, and she took him into her arms.

"Woman," he said, "I have done all you have told me to. Will you wed me?"

"I keep my oaths." She said, "I will marry you, and bear your children, and rule when you are away."

They returned to Riversbank, where the people threw wheat grains over their heads for a fruitful marriage. They did not have tattoos carved into their hands, as was traditional among the Sheikah and still is for those few left. Ganhala took Harkinian into the lodge he had built for her, and there they were wed. As was traditional for Sheikah and elf alike, the newly weds spent the next week in the lodge of dogwood and willow. Their neighbors and friends cooked their meals for them, and each brought them a useful present for their married life.

When the week was over, Harkinian began training the warriors of the Fire Birds harder than he had before. By then, he was known as the best war captain in the tribe, so the warriors followed him without question. With the permission of Halkan, the leader of the Fire Birds and the father of Ganhala, Harkinian took half of the tribe's fighters south across the Zora River to the Shadestall region at the base of the Southwestern Backbones, and handily conquered the Shade people there. Harkinian returned victorious, and found that the leader Halkan had passed away in the weeks the elvish conqueror had been gone. He found his home burnt to the ground, and his place at the council fire fouled. Ganhala he found safe, and he discovered that in his absence the boastful, purist Tiernan had taken over. Tiernan had been jealous of Harkinian's feats and power. He was especially angered that Harkinian, who was not Sheikah, had such influence in the tribe.

Well! There was nothing else to do! Harkinian thought to rally his men to him, slay Tiernan and his followers, and take the leader's seat. The night before he was going to act, in a rough shed he'd built for the night, the goddess Nayru came to him, warning that to take violent action against Tiernan was to face his own defeat. Instead she told him what he must do.

The next morning he woke Ganhala, telling her,

"In two days you will make your venison stew, and wheat cakes. Dress in your finest gown, go to his house, and offer the food, then yourself to Tiernan. As he eats, serve him wine made from rose hips. His body sees roses and their fruit as poison. In this way we will triumph."

"So we must win only through trickery?" Ganhala asked, and Harkinian replied,

"I have done many things for you. It is time for you to obey your husband, wife." At this the woman grew angry.

"I did it because I knew you could be great if you were pressed into action. And I was right. My reasons were sound." She said. Harkinian sighed, and kissed her then.

"And so are my reasons. Ganhala, you must do this."

"Very well." She said, and began making the preparations for the meal she would seduce Tiernan with. Harkinian went out that day and shot down a fat doe. Ganhala stewed the meat with herbs, roots, and tubers. She baked golden wheat cakes, and studded them with dried cranberries. Then she bartered her favorite shawl for a skin of rose hip wine. Finally, Ganhala bathed, braided her hair, and put on a woad-blue dress.

She went to Tiernan's door, and asked to be let in, which he did willingly, for she was beautiful for a Sheikah woman, and he had lusted after her. Harkinian's wife spoke flatteringly to him, and bid him eat of the food she had brought. When he grew thirsty, she poured him a cup of rose hip wine. Tiernan drank a sip, then asked her,

"What wine is this?"

"It is fruit wine." She replied.

"Not rose hip wine?" He asked with suspicion, and she raised her hands.

"As you can see, my hands are not scratched from rose thorns. Besides, it is the season for wild cherries, not rose hips." That satisfied him, and he began to drink greedily.

At last the poison came over him, and with a gasp and a mighty shudder, he slipped into the hands of cold death. Ganhala smiled, and ate the rest of the stew as he died. When she was certain he was truly dead, she took his sword from his belt, and cut off his head.

This is why people today say, when a woman rejects a man's advances, he has 'been served rose hip wine.'

So Harkinian became leader of the Fire Birds.

He began to make changes quickly, using more and more elvish customs than he had when Ganhala's father had lived. He named himself King, and named the Fire Bird's territory Arryn, for the name of the star sign he had been born under. King Harkinian then sent a message to Ganhala's uncle, who led the Ten Hands across the river.

'I am determined to make the Ten Hands' territory my own. I am a strong leader – the Sick Wolves chose to join with me rather than fight, the Shade people fell under my army's might. You yourself have lost to me, but you are family, so I will warn you now, that if your men do not surrender to my forces when they come, you too will fall under their blades.'

Ganhala's uncle chose to fight, and then the Ten Hands tribe was no more.

By this time, Harkinian was thirty, and his kingdom covered all of present-day Arryn. He battled his way back to the great foothill he desired so much, and standing at its base, he turned pleased eyes on the summit, and with his people, began to climb to the top. At the crown of the hill, he built his castle in the style of the mountain elves, and named it 'High Rule.'

Back in Riversbank, Ganhala gave birth to a son, and in her husband's absence, named the boy Harkinian the Second. When the last stones were set and the mortar dry in the castle walls at High Rule, Harkinian sent for Ganhala and his son, and housed them safely in the new fortress.

His kingdom established and his ambitions satisfied but not yet run dry, he sent a letter of regal greeting to King Handen of Hightop Valley, his father. The reply, months later made it clear that while the King Handen did not wish to exert power over the distasteful flatlands, some of Harkinian's elder brothers did not feel the same, and felt that family land, new or not, should go to the heirs of the line, not the youngest son. Handen closed the letter with his pride in his long-absenced son, and a warning that Harkinian's brothers Palen and Arlenian might be making a ill-intentioned visit in the future.

So Harkinian began to further fortify his castle at High Rule, and the city Riversbank, as well as the more important towns in Arryn.

Ganhala grew with child yet again, and birthed Handen the Third, in honor of Harkinian's father. Harkinian wished to conquer more of the land east of High Rule, and rather than wait to see if his brothers would attack, decided to go ahead with his plans despite it all.

"After all," He said to Ganhala, "First they must gather their armies, and winter is still heavy in the mountains. They will have to wait until summer, when supplies are available. They would not beggar their own armies like that, and they are not used to flatland life." Harkinian prudently did not reach too far, however, and only expanded north to the base of the mountains above High Rule, and a little further south, towards the Plains.

A season went by, summer came. And no envious brothers came to knock at High Rule's door. Palen's army miraculously perished in a freak blizzard in late March. Arlenian took this as a sign that the Goddesses were on Harkinian's side, and called off his soldier's preparations to march down into the flatlands. Ganhala bore twin girls – Linalda and Denisla, and Harkinian expanded his kingdom west to present day Patcheem.

Years passed, Ganhala had two more sons, Danal and Trenalan. Unlike his father, Harkinian did his best to instill loyalty into his sons, towards their father, and towards each other. Ganhala continued to run the household with a hand as steely as her hair. Late in her motherly cycle, she gave birth to a final child – Angres.

In that year, Harkinian made several sacrifices to Nayru to give thanks for Ganhala's continued health despite her advanced age and such a difficult birth. Finally, Nayru came down from the sky to ask what Harkinian wanted after making such a tribute to her. Harkinian pled with the Goddess to become his kingdom's patron goddess.

Now back then, such a thing was unheard of. Each individual might have a different goddess who favored them, with the exception of Din, who jealously adored the Gerudo people, and them alone.

Nayru thought long and hard over whether to grant his request. Harkinian waited three days until she made her decision, and there, at the wooded base of the hill at High Rule, Nayru became the patron of the kingdom which was then called High Rule, but is now Hyrule. Her choice made, she departed from that small clearing in the woods, and upon that spot where she rose back into the sky, Harkinian Hyrule began to build a mighty temple in her honor, which would be completed by his grandson, King Harkinian the Third.

Years passed, Hyrule's borders ever growing, and finally Ganhala passed away one frosty winter morn. In his grief, Harkinian stepped down from the throne and let his son Harkinian the Second take the crown in his place. The great king retired to the Rosethorn estate, which had been a favorite escape for Ganhala, where he lived out the rest of his days, loved and respected by all who did not fear him.

And so, with his death, comes the end of this story, a tale of the father of our country, a leader, a lover, a pious man who secured Nayru's grace for all Hylians! Think hard and fondly when you recall the legend of King Harkinian the Great! I bid you all a fair day and a silent night!

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Of Unexpected Hospitality**

Riding Deste, it took a week and a half, rather than three, to get from white-sailed Grassbow to Hestoppe, a small town on the inner side of the Zora River. As Link searched for a good place to ford the river, he ran across a troop of soldiers, their blue and brass shoulder-slides signifying they came from Patcheem, as opposed to the gold and crimson that marked the royal general army. They stopped him briefly, but a boy on a horse citing urgent business was less suspicious than a boy alone on foot, so they let him go, after advising Link to cross the river at Pauline.

The territory beyond the river got hilly very quickly, then rocky. Mountain ash and evergreens seemed to be the dominant trees growing on the scruffs and slopes. Star flowers sprinkled the sparse grass and creeping vines. At last, Link and the faithful Deste left the sight of the Plains, climbing further and further into the grasp of the mountains.

It was not always a safe climb. One afternoon, Link was startled from his easy seat on Deste's back by the howl of a Wolfos. Deste flattened his ears back, the whites of his eyes showing, but obediently stopped and did not bolt under his master's firm hand. The massive canine loped out from underneath a shaggy stand of evergreens, its menacing growl hungry. Link drew his sword and wheeled Deste to face the beast, just as the wolf sprang at them, more interested in the Hylian than the horse. Up came Link's heavy boot, and something crunched in the canine's muzzle. It wailed and backpedaled, blood spraying from its broken nose, and a sharp cut from Link's sword across its silver ruff sent it fleeing into the underbrush, huffing out pained cries that faded with its quick retreat.

Link sighed, cleaned the blood off his sword and boot, then set about to calm Deste down. He smoothed the grey dapple's mane gently, crooning praise to the frightened gelding until the horse was soothed and was affectionately lipping Link's hands. The boy gave his steed a last, affectionate rub between the eyes, before mounting up and continuing on.

The road was hard, and winding. At some points one side of the path dropped into a sheer drop, making Link very glad he wasn't the slightest bit afraid of heights. The spring days were getting longer, but he stopped whenever there was a clearing flat and secure enough to camp in. The nights were cold, so Link made sure to cover Deste up with his horse blanket every evening.

At last, Cragshead Mountain, with its snow cap and jagged peaks, loomed into view from behind the smaller mountains, signaling the end of Link's journey to Kakariko. Halfway around, Link and Deste ran into a pair of rock Tektites – which Deste, without any prompting from his rider, chased off the path and then trotted glibly past them down the road, unhindered. Link laughed, slapped the grey on the neck, and grabbed for the reins. Deste snorted, as if to say, _'they weren't_that_tough.'_

Climbing down into the valley made by the Cricka River, a smaller river that fed into the mighty Zora, Link should have been able to see the smoke from Kakariko, but the rising wind whipped it away, the cloudy sky a sullen pale grey.

Snow began to fall, lightly at first, then heavier, more and more, until Link couldn't see the path in front of Deste's hooves. Sure he could not reach the city safely, he turned his steed aside into the low, overhanging shelter of a thick patch of spruces, and after blanketing Deste, he bid his horse kneel down. Link draped the tent cloths over them both, pulling off his jacket, putting on more layers of clothing from his pack, then replaced his coat. He curled up in his bedroll and blanket, and snuggled against Deste's side, ready to wait out the storm. Link was just grateful he was in the relative shelter of the valley, instead of the exposed rock of Cragshead Mountain. Surely the storm would be brief – it was well into spring and the warmth typically drove the snow away quickly.

It was too cold for even nightmares.

Link was awoken by the insistent nudging of Deste's head. He struggled weakly to sit upright, drawn further into consciousness by hot horse breath. The snow had stopped falling, but there was at least a foot or two on the ground.

Link noted with dismay that the ends of his fingers were numb and strangely colored. He rubbed feeling back into them painfully, then stamped warmth into his booted feet. He saddled and bridled Deste once more. The climb into the saddle was awkward, but he managed, and was shocked to see it was already many hours past noon when he glanced up at the sun's position. The trip into the valley was difficult and arduous with all the snow on the ground. He found the bridge across the Clicka after getting lost several times, and then set out to climb the valley path up to Kakariko.

The way was hard, and night fell before he could reach the city limits. No snow fell, but the night was colder than the last, and wind blew the snow in its drifts across the ground in swirling eddies that blinded. There was no shelter to be found in which to out wait the night out this time, and the snow wasn't deep enough to dig a cave into, so Link and Deste glumly continued on.

They had reached a dark, open place where the snow accumulated in strange, looming drifts when Link's last dregs of energy gave out. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell.

Then there was nothing but darkness, and cold, and cold,

and cold

and great hands lifting up

movement shifting

a concerned voice?

no, it couldn't, could it

rusty hinges and a sudden warmth.

And darkness.

The shriek of a kettle woke him this time around. Link was rather surprised to find himself lying down, warm and cozy, if very stiff. His sight was very blurry, and he blinked frantically to clear it, to no avail. A low ceiling and a lit stove refused to resolve themselves to his liking. His breath caught in his dry throat and coughs racked his body.

"Ah!" An old man's voice wheezed, "Kat, my sweet, our guest is awake."

"Hm?" Inquired a girl's soft, lilting voice, "Ah, so he is. Well, I've milk toast and, soon as not, hot tea for that one. Should lift the damp right out." She stepped close enough into the light for Link to see her – his poor eyesight could only make out a short girl, probably two or three years younger than him, and bright hair somewhere between red and true gold. The girl - Kat, apparently – lifted up a lamp to better examine him, illuminating the narrow nook that the cot was wedged into. "Look at me, dear. I need to see your eyes." Link obeyed, and she sat back on the edge of the little bed, and shook her head. "Pupils still constricted. It'll take day or so, by my guess, for you to get your sight rightly back."

"What?" He croaked, and she laughed at him.

"You're a mess, and should know better than to sleep on someone else's grave without their permission. Spooks don't like it much – so that one laid a trick on you, and that was what got you ill. If you behave yourself, she might let you go sooner than two days." When he frowned at her in confusion, she sighed. "We found you in the graveyard, out cold. You've been here at least four days."

"Where am I?"

"In the hospitality of Dampe the Grave keeper, right on the outskirts of Kakariko."

"Kattala! Tea's ready." Said the old man, his voice deep enough that Link judged he would probably be barrel-chested.

"Ta, dear." Kattala said, and busied herself with the kettle and a mug. Dampe, a stocky old man, probably in his hundreds already, held the rough plate of milk toast as she fussed over the stove. "You're rather lucky, you know." She said over her shoulder to Link, "If you hadn't been cursed, you might have succumbed to the cold or come down with the lung-chills, like as not. But when the dead curse you, the curse comes first. There's no dying to be done 'til you're done suffering." Done with the mug, she walked over to the bed-nook. Dampe helped Link sit up, shoving a thin pillow between his back and the wooden wall. Link took the cup of tea carefully, and drank gratefully but carefully. It was an herbal tea, strong and sweet. When the elderly man was sure Link could manage on his own, he patted Kattala on her bright head affectionately.

"You keep watch over him, child. I've my rounds to do." He said and she nodded, hopping up onto a stool by the bed and swinging her short legs absently back and forth. Dampe left, locking the door behind him. Kattala reached over and turned the lamp shutters open wider, filling the shack with light. It was then that Link noticed there was something wrong with her nose. To his blurred vision, it appeared strangely lopsided. Odd.

"Would you like that toast now?" She asked, "Or would you like to keep gawking?"

"Sorry," He muttered, then added, "And yes, please." Kattala quickly cut the milk toast into bite sized pieces and handed him a pair of eating sticks, to his surprise that she might have Southern utensils in such a Northern area. He ate slowly, his fingers still stiff from their exposure to the cold. The warm toast itself was rough-grained, soaked in milk, honey, and the slightest bit of cinnamon and clove. Kattala pressed another cup of tea on him, then poured one for herself. With his stomach full, before he knew it, Link's eyes began to droop. His young nurse rescued the earthen mug before he could spill it, then helped the older boy lay down. He was asleep before she could pull up the blanket.

Kattala went back to her stool, drinking sweet tea slowly, legs swinging and grey-green eyes watching her charge carefully.

She was still there the next morning when Link woke. He stretched carefully, feeling much better, and found his eyes could focus as well, now. He looked down at the floor, and saw Kattala sleeping on his unrolled bedroll, his blanket folded up into a pillow. Her face was peaceful, blanket and hair all but obscuring it.

She pulled her hand away from her face, and Link's stomach lurched, then flopped over in disgust. Her face – which might have been pretty – was utterly marred by a sunken-in cheekbone and a nose that had clearly been broken so badly it was smashed to the sunken side of her face. He hadn't noticed earlier, with his vision shot by the curse which must have worn off in the night.

He looked away, and swallowed the nausea down. Then he looked again, forcing himself not to feel ill. The deformity consisted only of her nose and her left cheekbone. Her mouth was a little coral rosebud, the chin delicate. Her brows and eyelashes were a light brown, her ears the same comforting roundness Keen's had been, and she wore no magic-regulating ear cuff. Pretty. She would have been a pretty girl if not for the unfortunate nose and cheek.

As if hearing his thoughts, she blinked and sat up.

"Mornin'." Kattala mumbled.

"Good morning." Link replied, "I'm feeling much better, thanks to you."

"Think nothing of it. Any decent person would've helped."

"Are you the grave keeper's daughter?" He wondered, and she turned sharp, almond-shaped eyes on him.

"Why? Because I'm ugly?" Kattala asked quietly, without much bitterness. Link blinked.

"No!" He said, backpedaling.

"Well then, why? That's the only thing that makes us alike, see. Well, sides from the graves."

"Er, why couldn't it be the way he was acting towards you?" Link paused awkwardly, then added, "Sorry."

"He's not my father. He's a good friend, is all."

"I see."

"Hmph." She said, then cocked her head slightly. "You feel well enough to walk? It wouldn't be more than a dozen yards. Mister Dampe needs his bed back – he's too old to sleep on the floor more than once, and money is too dear to have a sick guest for long." Link frowned thoughtfully, then stretched slowly to test his body.

"I think so." He said, sitting up further. "Where would we be going?"

"To the house I live in, mid-town Kakariko - my Master's household."

"You don't live with your family?" Link asked bluntly. He was feeling much better, but there was a lingering tiredness in his bones, and he was too achy for subtlety.

"No, I was apprenticed to Master Tangle since I was nine. I've lived with him the three years since."

"That would make you twelve, then." Link said thoughtlessly, and she smiled impishly.

"Just a year younger than you, I judge. You ask a lot of questions for a sick man." Link flushed, and went silent. "Stay here, please. I'll get Dampe." She slid off the high stool, and left the shack.

Kattala returned a dozen minutes later, with the grave keeper in tow. Dampe helped Link up, and Link discovered Kattala was sturdy, but tiny enough to be the perfect height to use as a crutch. Together, the girl and the old man got the weakened boy onto a battered cart, a shabby farmer sitting impatiently in the driver's seat. Dampe returned to his house to get Link's heavy pack and bedroll, and heaved them into the bed of the cart.

"Thank you for saving me, sir." He said politely, and the man nodded.

"T'was nothing. I'd just as soon not need to dig a new grave, all for a little evil on my soul." Dampe said easily, then looked to Kattala, who had climbed into the cart next to Link. "Kat, take good care of him, and be sure to come for the funeral on Starsday."

"I will, Dampe." She said, smiling, then turned to the driver. "Mister Claral, we're ready too leave now, thanks." Mister Claral nodded stiffly, and clucked to the powerful blood bay nag hitched to the wagon, and the cart started with a lurch. They left the massive graveyard for a narrow brick road winding down the steep slope to the city. Slowly, the memorials and mausoleums were shrouded by the morning mist until distance faded them out of sight.

The cart shook and swayed as they rattled down the road. Kattala reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. She opened the bundle and handed Link a pair of oatcakes studded with raisins. He gnawed on it carefully, and washed the food down with water from the offered canteen in Kattala's little hands.

The roofs of Kakariko quickly appeared over the treetops of the wooded road, all red, faded black, and grey slate slopes, smoke curling from circular chimneys. Once they were through the brick arch that defined the entrance to Kakariko, Link could see and hear clamor of the traffic on the city streets.

As it was Sunday, and thus the day after the holy day of rest, all the merchants and vendors were anxious to get a head start on the new business week. Mister Claral paid no attention to the braying of the vendors hawking their wares and produce. Link followed the man's lead and examined the city instead. It was located in the nook between Cragshead Mountain, the Clicka River, and Death Mountain, built on massive, ancient terraces in the valley on the lee side of the great volcano's feet. Looking up, Link could see that a giant ridge far above the terraces would redirect any resulting lava from the kind of eruption Death Mountain's Firemouth might send forth.

Earthen ramps, paved with stone and lined on either side with stairs for pedestrians, let traffic move from one level to another with ease. There were at least eleven different levels, with the baron's manor and the administrative buildings on the eighth and widest level.

Kakariko, in a way, was older and younger than Hyrule City itself. The terraces, ramps, and wells were probably old enough to have been built by the early settled Sheikah people in their heyday. But the buildings themselves were fairly new – not a one older than two hundred years. As if reading his mind, Kattala whispered that there had been a fire a hundred and fifty years ago, caused by an earthquake which had been born from the shivers of the sleeping bulk that was Death Mountain. Most of the city had been destroyed by the resulting fire, and then rebuilt.

Further down in the valley lay the farms that fed the city, winding north was the road that led to a cross roads – one going around the base of the Firemouth to Stonefall, the Mountain Province's capital, the other crawling up the mountain to Climbtown, the highest Hylian settlement in the country.

Mister Claral guided the cart up to the fifth level, until it rolled to a stop in front of a large, mannerly house in mottled grey stone, which was set halfway into the cliff of the terrace. A plump man, dressed in bright vermilion, waved happily from the front porch, and Kattala waved back.

"That would be my master." She said in a pleased tone. "Thank you Mister Claral, for the ride. You'll get the discounts as were promised to you." Mister Claral nodded,

"Thank'ee." Was all he said gruffly, and slid off the driver's bench to grab Link's things from the back of the cart. Kattala and Link clambered off the back, the girl once more supporting her charge as they walked over to her master.

"Splendid! Oh, splendid." The man pronounced, his voice pitched high and fluttery. "So this is the handsome young man you were telling me about, now, ay?" Claral took one wary look at the plump man, dumped the pack and bedroll at the shorter man's feet, grunted a hello, and hightailed it out of there.

In response to her master's question, Kattala shrugged under Link's arm.

"It weren't anything like that, Master Tangle." She said patiently, "This is Link Forrester. Link, this is my master, the Sorcerer Tangle Ferres."

"Pleased to meet you, Master Tangle. And thanks for taking me in." Link murmured.

"Heavens, lad, guests are always welcome here! Especially good looking men!" Tangle said with a good-natured leer. Kattala sighed, little shoulders slumping in embarassment. "Now let me just get your things and we'll settle you in. Your fine steed is already in our stable." He heaved the bundles up, and headed for the door. Link and Kattala stumbled after him. A servant closed the door behind them. The interior of the house was cool and shady, with dark wood floors and accents, diamond-paned windows of fine glass letting in rays of bright sunlight. There seemed to be very few servants, for such a large house.

Kattala handed Link off to a male servant, who led him to a sunny room on the second story. Link gratefully crawled into an armchair, and thanked the man.

"Mistress Katerin will be with you soon." The servant replied, and left. Link puzzled over who that might be. Perhaps the lady of the house. But Master Tangle did not seem like the kind of man who would have a wife, even for show. As it were, Mistress Katerin turned out to be Kattala.

"In this house, and in the city, you need to call me Katerin Ferres." She told him, and Link blinked.

"Why?" He wanted to know.

"I'm pretending to be the Master's daughter, see. The ownership of this house is rather tricky, and if Master Tangle doesn't have a blood heir, he loses the house to his great-aunt Melbina. Those servants have been serving the family for generations – it's their bread and butter as what comes from working here. We don't really need them, but Aunt Melbina would send them away to find new work just out of thrift. The hag." Kattala added spitefully. "And he's practically my father anyways, so I don't see nothing wrong with it."

"What's your real name, then?"

"Kattala Selten. But you keep that a secret," The girl warned, "Or I'll bend my mind to figuring out as why you've got one of the Royal Rings, a Gerudo scimitar, food for a long journey, and enough money and goods on you as could buy a house, easily."

"And tell me, what were you doing going through my things?" Link demanded, fingers digging into the arms of the upholstered chair, "Furthermore, how? Nobody but me can open that pack."

"That's what all the craftsmen say to their customers." Kattala said idly, waving her hand at the notion. "I'm no first-year apprentice. I've been making those sorts of bags for at least a year now. Breaking them open is like a locksmith picking a lock – it's just part of the skill set. But that's off the topic. I went through your pack because you were close enough to spit Death in the face for at least three days, and I needed to see who you were, whether you had family looking for you, and where they might be." Somewhere downstairs a melodious clock chimed eleven times. Kattala looked away. "I needs to get back to my training. Here-" She set two books down on Link's lap, and then fetched a small cane from the hall. "You reek of music magic. These should keep your interest. I expect you'll be hale and hearty in a day or so. You're welcome in the house for another week yet, so don't worry about wearing out your welcome. The bell pull in the corner will summon a servant, if you might need one." She turned to go.

"Wait -" Link said, and she stopped halfway out the door.

"Yes?" The strawberry blonde inclined her head.

"Why are you being so, well, welcoming? I'm a stranger, after all." Kattala grinned.

"I haven't been in Hyrule long, but where I'm from, we have something called hospitality. You might've heard of it." And then she was gone, padding quietly down the airy hallway.

Link sighed, and without anything better to do, turned to the books he'd been given.

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Of Moving Forward**

On the third day of his time in the Ferres household, Kattala brought a steaming plate of dumplings to the window seat where Link was visually devouring a book on music magic that Master Tangle had lent him. The dumplings were not the ones he was used to – neither the steamed, thinly wrapped rice flour ones the Gerudo made, nor the boiled, thick wheat flour ones the Hylians served. These were crunchy, deep fried savory dumplings, filled with cooked mushrooms and thinly sliced beef. Link took one and savored it, chewing slowly.

When he had swallowed his mouthful, he looked over at Kattala.

"Kattala. What do you call these?" He wondered, and she smiled.

"We call them 'fried beef dumplings'." Link pouted.

"Fine. Be that way. But where are they from? Are they from out of the country, like you are?" Kattala nodded.

"That's right. The recipe is from my old homeland, Selen. Well, more specifically, from the city of Serral."

"What is it like, Outside?"

"Bigger. And not nearly as peaceful. Old-Region Selen was conquered by the Ansalian Empire, who controls most of the continent these days. There still are lots of rebellions in the Old-Regions as what Ansalia took over, especially in Selen." She brought her knee up, and rested her deformed cheek in her palm, elbow placed on her kneecap. "Tangle and Stephaen – that's his lover, they brought me here when I was nine, so I don't know much about outside beyond the basics and what they told me."

"Why did you leave your family? You mentioned they're still alive." Link pressed, and the redhead's lips thinned.

"It wasn't safe anymore." She said quietly, "The Ansal soldiers set fire to Serral. There was no time, and it wasn't safe there. My mum wanted to take us to Perinon, but the rebels were just as busy there too. So Tangle and Stephaen took me, and we fled South, through Old-Region Ansal, across the Lapiz River – the largest river in the world, and through the borders of Hyrule." She paused, then added. "Hyrule is called Azavaire, to us Outsiders."

"Azavaire." Link sat back on his heels. "That's a pretty name. I, uh. I'm not being too forward, am I?"

"I don't know." She said, equally puzzled. "I never had a friend my age before. It's all on account of this face, I suppose. Only old people will talk to me, most times. I don't know much about it, but I'll be your friend, even if you're going to leave soon." Link smiled gently.

"Kat. What are you talking about? You helped Dampe save my life, even though I'm a stranger. Of course we're friends." The girl waved it off.

"Good hospitality is part of one's honor, back in Selen. Turning someone away just isn't done, unless they've been marked as one of the shunned. There was nothing special about what I did. All right?"

"All right." Link acquiesced, and then they crunched up the fried dumplings in silence. Finally, Link broached the stalemate.

"Have you ever thought about getting your nose fixed by a healer?" He asked, and Kattala snorted.

"Believe me, I've tried. But healers, for all their skill, can't fix breaks as are this old."

"How old?"

"I've looked this way since I was five. Seven years is too long after all."

"Sorry, I suppose you're technically healed, the wound, I mean."

"You're correct. Would you like to leave the house?" Kattala ventured, blatantly changing the subject, "I bet you're tired of staying indoors."

"Don't you have practice to do?"

"Eh," She grunted, rather unladylike, "I can do that outside just as easily as in."

"What _are_ your practice tasks, anyway?" He wondered. He'd gone through the usual magic training under Rabiyu, then been tutored privately by Ganondorf in his music magic. But Kattala was a full-fledged apprentice to a sorcerer both powerful and worldly, and he had no idea what that entailed.

Kattala looked at him and bit her lip, hesitant. Link nudged her shoulder in encouragement, and she relented.

"Well, I suppose I can talk about it. Outside, the nine races are so interbred that an individual's abilities greatly vary from person to person. Everyone has some kind of magical ability, but most learn about it in their teens, and regulate it with an ear cuff, just like in Hyrule. And these abilities are small. One person in a thousand has a greater power, as is called academic magic, and they have to train more to control it. A lot more, matter o' fact. Every one of these is put through a diagnoser, as will categorize their ability. I'm an essence manipulator. Eventually, I should be able to take a sword and change its natural strength into unbreakability. I can already do bottomless bags like yours, and matches that don't burn out. I just mastered a new one – come see." She stood up, and Link blinked up at the disfigured girl.

"What?"

"I'll make you something useful for your quest."

"How do you know I'm on a quest?" Link said, caught off guard once more. She grinned.

"What thirteen year old boy has a Royal Ring, _two_ fine swords, healing potions and powders, rations, a cartload of maps, and all by his lonesome to boot? I bet it's a secret mission too." Link scowled at that.

"Now you're just being mean." He said ruefully, "I'll have you know, back at the Palace, nobody could read me. I was quite the man of mystery."

"I'm certain of that!" She reached down and pinched his cheek "Why, you're just the cheekiest rogue I've met, and I've seen a lot." He swatted her hand away and stood, trying to regain some vestige of his masculinity.

"Fine, fine! Let's go to your workshop, already!" Kattala just smiled, catlike, and trotted down the hall to the stairs, leading him to a small, dusty workroom filled with shelves, cabinets, and a narrow workbench. She hopped up onto a tall stool, and Link found a stool for himself.

Out of various cabinets and drawers she pulled out a pliers, a wire cutter, a small ceramic bowl, nine lengths of dark leather cord, a large metal pin, three vials of some kind of oil, and some gold wire.

"Firstly, in making bracelets of binding, you oil the leather." She dribbled two oils into the bowl, swirling them together. Kattala coated her hands in the mix and worked the oil into the leather thongs. "Using oils of lavender and sleepwort to induce sleep, see. Then you braid the nine into three separate braids, keeping the direction of one braid reversed, for strength and binding." She pinned three cords together and quickly braided them together, unpinned the braid, set it aside, and did likewise for the other six strands. "You rub the oil into them again, then weave the three braids into one." She did so. "Tie it off – and make a clasp out of the wire. Rag, please." Link found one, and handed it to Kattala, who wiped her hands off. Taking up the pliers, she quickly shaped a hook and loop out of two lengths of wire, then fastened them to each end of the wide triple-braid. "Put the magic in-" Her brow furrowed with concentration as she held the leather piece, and Link dimly registered a faint, shining hum around them. It wavered faintly, like the fragment of a melody he couldn't quite place.

Softly, Kattala whispered,

"Everything comes from you. Everything goes to you too…" She repeated herself twice. And then the apprentice mage let go – the soft murmur of music disappeared immediately. She dripped a single drop of oil from the smallest vial onto the creation, smeared it around on the leather in a circular motion with her finger, then wiped the bracelet with the rag. "And, finally, bind the working to its completion. Here." She handed the finished piece to Link. "If you fasten this around someone's wrist once the oil dries, it will lock on them and force them to sleep for two days. It's only good for one use, I fear."

Link looked down at it, turning the bracelet over in his hands.

"Why give this to me?" He wondered aloud.

"I'm buying your friendship, is what." Kattala said frankly, meeting blue eyes squarely with her soft green ones.

"What?" Link said in alarm, and she shrank in on herself slightly at his tone.

"Isn't that what friends do? Give each other gifts as could help them?" She asked meekly, "I heard that girls make friendship bracelets, so I thought I'd try that, only I can do works with magic, so wouldn't a charmed bracelet be better?" Link's mouth worked silently for a second, then closed shut as he decided what to say to that.

"It was very thoughtful." He said gently, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Kattala replied, mollified. "I need to take a rest, I think."

"Didn't you want to go outside?"

"Maybe later." She responded, "Making works that fast is quite the drain."

"Oh, all right, then." Link sighed. The strawberry blonde girl nodded at him, tidied up her workspace quickly, and shuffled away in the direction of her room.

Link carefully closed the workshop's door behind him, and returned to his room and the padded window seat, confused by what had just happened, but eager to pick up where he'd left off in his text.

Dinner that night was interesting. Kattala was tired and quiet, Master Tangle was bubbly and courteous, and Stephaen, Tangle's lover was good-humored but silent. Link himself remained attentive but polite, not wanting to encourage the vague flirtation the sorcerer occasionally threw his way.

At first the talk had been of the current demand for enchanted trinkets, and the latest news over the leylines, but at some point, conversation turned to the world outside Hyrule.

"Ultimately, I think Selen is the most unique country of all of Vanity, although of course it is no longer a country but what outsiders refer to as Old-Regions. Selen, Wehana, the Frostlands, and Idre have all been taken over by the Ansalian Empire for many decades, leaving only distant Eastland left. And I don't say I prefer Selen because I settled there for many years, nor that I found my dear Katerin and Stephaen there. The night there is never dark, because of the clouds that form right after sunfall. At night they radiate the light they gather during the day. You can only really see the stars right at dawn, but the two moons' light comes through just fine. Still, it's good to be back in the old home country, away from the influence of that Mad God they have."

"Mad God?" Link wondered, intrigued. "Who is he? I thought the Goddesses created the world and there were no deities beyond heresy."

"Oh, he's real," Stephaen spoke up in a dark tone, "He says he created Vanity, and all on it. 'Course, he goes around destroying the temples of any other religion as might form if it weren't for him. Most Gods, real or not, even your Goddesses, have the sense to live mostly apart from us mortals. But no – the ol' Mad God likes to walk the world in mortal garb, always testing the faith of us mortals. And if he finds you lacking, well!" Stephaen made a quick, broad gesture "Bam! Say farewell to your home, your family, your town, and only then, your life. But Azavaire's… no, _Hyrule's_barriers seem to keep him out right well."

All four diners shuddered at the thought, even Link. The topic was quickly changed – as if even speaking of the Mad God might bring him down upon them - and those eating soon spoke of the excellent food they were consuming. Served that night was a preparation of mountain quail and a strange, grain-like noodle called _couscous_ that apparently came from Selen. Tangle managed to get Link talking about Palace politics – for the man was too canny not to notice the Royal Ring Link wore, and clever enough to deduce Link was on a mission – and encouraged Link by the means of revealing something of Selenid politics for every vague tidbit the Hylian boy offered. It was oddly freeing to talk openly with three people who took supposedly heroic and secret missions for granted.

A strange tea was passed around after dinner - made of unfermented tea leaves. The result was a delicate tea with floral notes – what Kattala and Stephaen called 'green tea.' As far as Link knew, the only place where tea could be grown was in the southernmost reaches of the Curled Backbone Mountains in Rainfall Province. All the tea that came out of the Province was what Kattala called 'black tea', and had been properly oxidized.

"Most of the Ansalian Empire gets its tea from Selen." Kattala said, swinging her feet under the table and accidentally kicking Link squarely in the shins, "It rains enough in the mountains, especially our Mountains of Night."

"Mountains of Night? That sounds ominous." Link ventured.

"Remember now, that 'the sun never sets in Selen'." Tangle reminded the boy, "But the Mountains of Night are high enough to breech the _light clouds_ and experience true night. Those very mountains are on the left end of the continent-long range called the Pillars of the Sky. Tallest mountains in the world, they are."

"The Mountains of Night are very auspicious, is what he means." Kattala said querulously, sharply tapping her collarbone with her thumb in a gesture Link assumed came from Selen as well.

"That is correct." Tangle said mildly.

By the end of the night, Link knew quite a bit about the outside world. But what held his interest the most was Selen, which seemed to be a country that mixed the heat of Hyrule's South with the rain of the Rainfall province, and the steep mountains of the North.

Link climbed easily into bed that night, feeling fully restored, with no more shakes or weakness from his encounter with the cold and the ghost's curse.

Kattala found Link in the stables the next day, while he was busy tending to Deste. The Ferres servants had taken very good care of the dapple grey gelding while the boy was ill, but Link had missed his daily interaction with his steed. He'd already carefully curried and brushed the grey's coat, and given Deste some bran mash as a treat.

Kattala peeked into the stall while Link was cleaning out Deste's feet with a hoof pick, the horse's leg carefully balanced on his rider's bent knee.

"Hallo, Link." She said, and Link looked up briefly at her, but kept a firm grip on the hoof in his lap.

"Morning, Kat. Sleep well?" He inquired, continuing to clean out the muck from the flat of his steed's hooves, carefully avoiding the sensitive 'frog' at the back of the hoof.

"I did, thank you." Kattala replied. "Your color's up. How do you feel towards getting out of the house today?"

"I think that would be great." Link switched hooves, going from the back right to front right. Deste patiently held still, knowing it would be over soon and his feet would feel better for it when it was done. "I'm almost done, and then we can go."

"All right, then."

Link flicked his hoof pick to remove the mixture of dung, straw, and mud clinging to it. "Do you like to ride?" He wondered absently, and Kattala snorted.

"I don't like horses much."

"Why?"

"Got stepped on when I was little, long ago. Broke two of my toes. They're still sort of crooked."

"That's awful… But you seem okay, in the stables."

"I don't like horses, as I said. I'm not really _scared_ of them." She said peevishly.

Link shrugged, and set Deste's hoof down, standing and giving the dapple a firm pat on the finely muscled shoulder.

"Suit yourself, I guess. I'm ready to go." He brushed bits of straw off his pants and boots. "Did I get it all?"

Kattala shook her head.

"You have some in your hair."

"Oh." He searched through his hair for the offending straws, found them, and pulled them out. "Better?"

"Much." She reached up and pulled down a wicker basket from one of the lower stall partitions, slinging it over her arm. "Shall we go, sir?" Link bowed formally.

"As the Lady Katerin wishes." He said, smiling. She grinned back and thumbed her shattered twist of a nose.

"Why, yes, I do." Kattala said airily, and skipped out of the stable in imitation of a flounce. She stopped before she left the carriage yard, and turned to Link. "I've already told Master Tangle that we'll be out for a bit, so no worries."

Link nodded, and followed his new friend off the property, and into the streets of Kakariko.

They made their way down four levels to the bottom terrace, weaving through the Moonsday traffic to the city road that led to the valley rim.

On the second terrace, they were stopped by a man in rags, who seemed rather agitated.

"Flies! You're all flies!" He gibbered, gathering a crowd as he gesticulated wildly, "Flies, all of you, fit to catch. To drain. The King will send a rain down that will turn you all to spiders, to turn on your neighbors and eat them up. One by one! He did this to my family, and now we must eat the filth of Vanity, until the curse has passed. Listen, little flies, before the King sucks your life away to fight the South. The South has shed its skin – it grows greater day by day, and soon its wings will dry and it will fly far, far away to a land that does not eat its young! Cursed spiders we are! We weave our subtle webs, we catch our share, but woe to those who fall prey to their own traps, to be stuck fast, to wither inside our bones until naught but shell is left! The King! He has grown fat on you little flies, but a large spider only attracts more attention to the birds, the creeping creatures and the God with hard-soled feet!"

There was a shout from the back of the crowd, as a trio of soldiers started pushing through. Kattala grabbed Link's sleeve and dragged him away from the sad sight of the raving man being taken away in chains.

"There are more and more prophets as are speaking doom in public, these days." She said just quietly enough that only Link could hear her.

"Obviously he's insane, the poor heretic." Link replied in concern. Kattala eyed him sidelong with those green eyes.

"Oh, he's insane all right," She said solemnly, "But a heretic, nor a false prophet, he's not. He mentioned a God, not Goddess or even a trio of them. He's a prophet of the Mad God, more like. Which makes me wonder…"

"Wonder what?" Link prompted, and Kattala frowned thoughtfully.

"Whether the Mad God has come to Azavaire, or if not, when he will."

Link shivered at the very idea, even if he wasn't completely sure there really was a Mad God at all.

The pair went down to the lowest level of Kakariko, crossed the gateway that marked the city limits, and trotted down the rough road into the woods. They took the left fork, and Kattala turned to Link.

"You feeling up to a race?" She asked cheekily, and the Gerudo boy smirked.

"How far?"

"To the archway into the graveyard. About a mile or so."

"Easy." He proclaimed, and she smiled at him.

"You can be the one as will call the start." She decided, and knotted her skirt up high enough that Link could see she wore leggings underneath. "Right, I'm ready."

"All right, then. Ready, steady, GO!" They took off down the muddy road, avoiding mud puddles caused by the melted snow, legs churning. The sheath of the sword Fran had given him banged against his thigh as he ran.

Link was doing well – he had always been the fastest amongst his peers – but then Kattala sped up further and overtook him, little feet nimble. Soon she was pulling away, basket and all. Together, they pelted down the rocky road, Link trying futilely to catch up.

Kattala was eight yards ahead when she passed through the archway that marked the entrance to the graveyard. When Link finished, they doubled over, gasping for breath. Kattala took deep breaths through her mouth, and let air out through her splintered nose, which made an odd, nasal whistling as she exhaled. When he got his breath back, Link began to laugh.

"Well run!" He breathed, "Where did you learn to run like _that_?" Kattala smiled, still gasping, and held up a hand to take a moment to slow her breathing.

"Mister Dampe is even faster, and he's in his hundreds." She finally replied. "But he's slowing down now – age is catching up, as will happen to people, no matter how fast he might be. He taught me."

"I see." Well, at least she'd been taught that kind of speed, Link thought ruefully, which lessened the blow to his ego. Kattala shrugged fluidly, slinging the basket back onto her arm, and trudged up the hill to the first few lines of graves and the gravekeeper's home. Dampe's shack was tucked into a bend in the rock ridge that fenced the western side of the graveyard. Kattala rapped sharply on the door with her free hand, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she waited.

The old man shuffled to the door, and opened it. It was hard to believe this old man was faster than speedy little Kattala, but his chest was broad and barrel-shaped, his back slightly humped, his limbs thick but sinewy. He was as bald and pale as white marble, and when the elderly man smiled at the foreign girl, Link could see he still had most of his teeth.

"I've brought you some lunch today, Dampe. Soup, bread, and fried sausage for all of us."

"Thank'ee much, sweet child. I'll take your basket and keep the food warm in the stove. As it's Moonsday, do you want to take the thurible for today, and let an old man rest his weary bones?"

"I'll surely do it." She agreed, and handed the basket over. Dampe took it and opened his door wider to let the two adolescents in. The inside of the shack was as rough and homely as Link remembered from two weeks ago. Kattala immediately went for a cupboard and pulled out a closed dish attached to a bit of chain. She pulled out charcoal, a small jar, a knife, and a thick red match. While she got those things out, Dampe took a ceramic jar, a wrapped bundle, and a small box out of the basket and into the stove.

Kattala set the charcoal into the opened dish, fussed with it until it was lit, then inserted cones of incense into the lit coals. She closed the covering of the dish, and held the thurible firmly by the chain, fragrant smoke wafting out through small openings in the vessel's cover.

"Come on, let's finish this." The disfigured strawberry blonde said, gesturing for Link to follow her. "I reckon as you could use some fresh air, and you got to apologize to the ghost you offended, or she might kick up a fuss and bother me and Dampe later." She said decisively, and Link stared. Kattala had a very strange outlook on life, he decided eventually, then caught himself staring at her twisted nose and sunken cheek, and ripped his eyes away before she could notice. After two weeks of exposure, the sight had reduced itself from nausea-inducing to being merely shocking.

"All right, let's go." He agreed, and gallantly held the door for her.

They spent the next two hours walking the paths that followed each line of graves, him following her as she swung the thurible in a circular pattern. Twenty minutes into the first hour he came up with an idea.

"This incense procession – it's to please the dead, isn't it?"

"Yeah. That's correct."

"Would a little music please them as well?"

"I suppose. Well, actually, they'd surely love a break from routine. So long as it's respectful, I'd bet they would. It's a thoughtful, clever idea, I think."

"Thank you." Link said humbly, "I just like playing music, that's all." She simply smiled. He pulled out his second favorite ocarina from his pocket – he wasn't doing magic after all, and the Ocarina of Time was safe around his neck – it wouldn't do to show off with a sacred instrument.

The ocarina he was using at the moment was a long oval, made of terra cotta and decorated with striking painted markings in black and white. He hesitated for a moment, then struck up a solemn tune.

The graveyard was massive – easily the largest one for commoners in all of Hyrule. There were a few family mausoleums here and there, but the monuments were mostly the small, engraved conical pillars that served as grave markers.

Finally, they reached the south-westernmost edge of the cemetery, and the grave where Link had been found by Dampe the Gravekeeper. These graves were markedly older, and the carved names in the markers were mostly indiscernible. Kattala finished swinging the thurible and set it down, returning to the grave Link had slept upon.

"What am I supposed to do?" Link asked Kattala.

"Apologize to her. Formally, with a blood sacrifice, in fact. Her name is Galena Mioksis." She replied, then pulled a small knife from under her dress, presumably from a belt or a thigh holster, and smoothed her dress back down to properly cover her ankles once more.

"Why are you carrying a knife?" Link wanted to know, "I thought Hylian girls weren't allowed to." Kattala smirked slightly.

"I'm not Hylian, Link. Nor elvish, even. Some unholy mix is what I am, of how many races, I don't know. Certainly more than most of those that walk Vanity. And besides, if I'm a mage, I have need to draw blood - often. It makes no sense to use that great sticker of yours for a small cut" The short girl handed him the blade and a clean rag from her pocket. "A tablespoon or so should do. And be sincere. The dead like that best."

Link sighed at that, but she was right – he'd brought his sword along because of the graveyard's proximity to the wild valley, but also in case any of the dead decided to become undead while he was there. He'd had his run ins with the living dead, and seen what they could do. Magic was all well and good – when he was at full strength – but who knew whether his reserves were replenished completely?

He dutifully stood next to the grave where he'd been found, and rolled up his right sleeve, exposing the meaty part of his forearm. He made a long, shallow cut across it – his hands were too important to mar – letting blood drip slowly onto the grave, squeezing the slight cut with his free hand to milk out more blood.

"Mistress Galena Mioksis." He began solemnly, "Please forgive my trespass on your resting place. I regret my actions, and repent now with a more learned heart." He bowed deeply to the grave marker, his arm stinging and dripping. He thought he heard a slow sigh in response, the high shiver of distant bells, then heard nothing more than the spring wind rustling the trees. He stepped backwards away from the grave, keeping his back to Kattala and pressing the rag to the cut, until he stood at his friend's side.

"Very good." She proclaimed softly, taking her knife back, cleaning it, and sheathing it once more. She curtseyed to the grave, and followed Link as he walked away, carrying the now-cold thurible in her arms.

It was a good half-hour's walk back to Dampe's shack, and they were stopped once on the way.

Past a partially moldered grave pillar, a soft sneer cut through the air, chilling the two living children as they passed. Soft breathing pressed into laughter, then rose higher into a cackle of triumph. A scrap of brown linen fell from a nearby tree, blown on the wind and curled in upon itself. A light rose from the earth of the grave, spilling into the shroud, and in the shadow of the curled shroud two yellow eyes opened, gazing raptly at Link and Kattala. A lantern materialized in ghostly hands that protruded from the shroud.

Link cursed, and drew his blade.

"Kat, stay back. Poes are dangerous." He hissed.

Kattala snorted in annoyance.

"Poes is what you _Hylians_ call them? They're not Poes – but Shroud Demons. The weakest form of the undead. He's just smelt living blood given willingly. Should have wrapped your cut better, is all." She reached out and squeezed Link's shoulder in warning. "Put away your sword and bow to the poor confused fellow - like this." She stretched her arms akimbo, palms out, and folded herself into a bow, one leg crossing behind the other. "Poor good soul," She addressed the ghoul, "Now is the time for growing, and waking, but only for the living, dearheart. Go back to sleep, the flowers on your grave will bloom soon enough. And I'll come by with some incense to soothe you." She kicked Link's leg and hissed, "_Bow_, drat you!" He obeyed, and the Poe contemplated the pair, nodded as if to itself, and the light and shadow that formed it drained into the dirt of the grave, which thumped as if a heart beat there, then went still. The shroud fluttered away on the wind, but Kattala caught it before it could go far.

"Poor confused man." Kattala said, glaring at Link, "You almost made him angry."

"_Angry?_" Link snapped back, glaring just as hotly, "Excuse me if I treat undead monsters like the danger they are!"

"A knife is a _danger_ as much as a ghost is, to those who don't understand how not to get cut." Kattala said stubbornly. _The fool_, Link thought.

"You could have gotten hurt." He insisted. She crossed her arms petulantly.

"I could've hurt myself in just as many other ways, as well. Let's leave the Poe, or whatever you may call him, to his rest. It's lunchtime – we've missed Second Worship if I'm judging the sun's position rightly." She boldly marched away, and Link followed reluctantly behind her, his awakened temper cooling as they walked.

Dampe was waiting for them at the shack, a thin blanket spread out beneath a massive stone monument at the entrance to the graveyard. The children plunked themselves down on the fabric.

"Were you successful?"

"He was." Kattala said, "She was appeased. But Morgon Morrain is manifesting already, as a Shroud Demon. I got him calmed, but that won't last long, I reckon."

Dampe nodded.

"Good to know, child. Thank you for the warnin'. Come children – lunch is ready." He gestured to the bowls and plates set out. Hungry from the long walk and excitement with the Poe, the two adolescents tucked in. Kattala's basket had contained cheese flatbread, a thick tomato and herb soup to dip the slices of bread in, as well as fried venison sausage rolled in breadcrumbs. To go with the meal was three little jugs – two of milk for Link and Kattala, and a sharp cider for Dampe. The food was simple but hearty, and soon there was nothing left but crumbs.

Stomachs comfortably full, they stretched out in the unusually warm spring sunlight glancing off the highly reflective monument behind them. It was made of some black-flecked grey stone polished to a high shine.

Carved into the surface were the words:

_In memory of those honorable Sheikah who serve the will of the descendants of Harkinian the Great, and the Lady Ganhala the Storm-Hearted._

_Long may their names be spoken, may the work of their hands last for ages, may those they protect multiply and conquer the land, may they feast and recall great tales in the War Lodge of Farore the Ever-Growing for all eternity._

"Dampe?" Link wondered aloud, "Why is there a monument to the Sheikah here? I thought only Hylians lived in the mountains."

"Every native in Kakariko has some bit of Sheikah blood runnin' through their veins, lad." The wizened man said, "In the country's founding days, none of the Hylians lived around, nor near Death Mountain, because of the great lava flows it had back then when it was awake. But the land was worth the trouble – at least twenty different leylines join at the mountain, meaning there is more magic here nor any other of mebbe a dozen around Hyrule. When the Lady Ganhala learned of it, she told ol' Harkinian that she wanted a village on the mountain, to tap that magic, and he followed through with it. Back then he was ruling mostly Sheikah, so a Sheikah city Kakariko was. The Lady Impa is Ganhala's descendant through the Storm-Heart's sister, and she's due to rule the blood-seat when her mother passes, but she found duty greater than ruling –she guards the Crown Princess in the Capitol."

"Why do the Sheikah serve the Royal Family, anyway? All they've ever done is take over the Sheikah's land, more and more over the years." Link prodded, and Dampe sighed, passing a knobby hand over his wrinkled face.

"There are two kinds of Sheikah, young Link. Those who serve, and those who walk."

"What?"

"The ones who serve blend in with the Hylians, serving the descendants of the greatest war leader in all the ages. Remember that before he ruled Hyrule, he joined a Sheikah tribe first – the Fire Birds. That's why the Royal crest has a phoenix on it, anyhow. Hyrule is just as much a Sheikah country as it is Hylian – why, the first Queen was the strongest, most iron-willed Sheikah woman in legend. But those who walk – they still follow the old traditions and live off the land, never settling for more'n a year at once. They're the losers of the game of conquest – they have no land of their own. We call them the Shadow Wanderers."

"Even the Wanderers perform a service for Hyrule, like as not, though." Kattala cut in, grey-green eyes bright. "They run the caravans that go between cities, trading and protecting groups of travelers. They're the performers as who wander from site to site, the merchants who come to the great fairs at harvest time, the messengers taking post as can't be sent through leylines."

"Huh. I suppose that makes sense." Link replied slowly, and Kattala and Dampe nodded, satisfied with their account of the Sheikah.

Link spent the rest of the half-hour thinking and enjoying the warmth of the sun, before it was time for Dampe to get back to his duties, and for Link and Kattala to return to the Ferres manor.

On the second level of Kakariko the two discovered the 'Spider Prophet' – as they'd termed him – had been taken away, his ratty bag of things left discarded where he'd stood. Asking a nearby stall owner what had happened to the man revealed the soldiers had taken the man away on charges of heresy and treason.

As Link and Kattala climbed three more flights of stairs on the massive ramps to the fifth terrace, Kattala explained that the Ferres family made most of their money by running a leyline message station that sat on a junction of three major leylines in the area. That was why Master Tangle had so much trouble with the ownership of the house – the location was highly advantageous.

The two adolescents went to a sitting room on the first level of the three-story house, and struck up a game of cards, trading tidbits of various legends from Hyrule and Selen, until dinner time.


End file.
